


Mary

by ALWrite



Series: Outlaw [4]
Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007), The Quick and the Dead (1995)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Drought, F/M, First Time, Minor Character Death, Post-Canon, Prostitution, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 37,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15108074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALWrite/pseuds/ALWrite
Summary: A young saloon girl falls in love with Ben Wade.The story takes place five years after "A mother for Tommy and Lilly"





	1. New girl in town

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that the stories in the series "Outlaw" are not in chronological, but in "dramatic" order, sometimes jumping years ahead and sometimes relying on revealed information of earlier stories.
> 
> If you have not read the previous stories, I recommend to start with Part 1: "Better Luck Next Time"

 

"I hate her!"

Lilly stormed into the house and threw her satchel across the room vigorously. It flew past Ben and hit the kitchen pots. The noise was deafening, and Ben closed his eyes in pain. Lilly saw it.

"Sorry," she mumbled, only to resume her tirade, "but she is AWFUL! One day I will kill her!"

Ben laughed. His passionate daughter had no idea what killing really meant, what it felt like to see the life ooze out of somebody – and be the one responsible for it.

Lilly went to collect the pots and put them in order.

"What's Miss Hargrove done this time?" her father asked.

"She's a witch!"

Chuckling, Ben walked over to the water bucket and filled a glass with water. He knew from experience that after a hearty tirade Lilly would want to down two or three glasses. _But not yet. First she had to let some of that steam off..._

"I remember when you were five and met her for the first time, you were quite taken with her. You even thought she was a princess," he said.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

"Sure it is," he said and turned to her, glass in hand. "She had come to visit us on the ranch, and you were all eyes and asked her if she was a princess. You liked the look of her dress so much I thought you might turn out to become a girl after all, but..." – here he sighed dramatically – "alas, it wasn't to be."

His daughter's eyes blazed fire, and she took a deep breath to give voice to...

"Here, have a drink of water," Ben interrupted and handed her the glass with a sparkle in his eyes.

Lilly gave a scoffing sound at this, but, nevertheless, she downed the glass in a few gulps. Walking over to the water bucket, she refilled the glass and drank again – albeit slower and more relaxed.

Ben sat down at the table, coffee in hand.

 

_His little girl... almost nine years old already. Was it really three years ago that he had taken her to school for the first time? Lilly had taken an instant dislike to the prim and proper teacher._

_He should have known. Those two were just too different to get along with each other. But since it was the only way to ensure Lilly received at least a basic schooling, Ben had persuaded his little girl – time and time again – to calm down, to return to school, and to obey her teacher._

 

"So," Ben said when Lilly sat down opposite her father at the table, "what's she done?"

"We are to call her 'Miss' after every sentence! Can you believe it?"

Ben just shrugged his shoulders at that. "You can hardly call her 'Mister', you know."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it!"

Ben enjoyed his coffee. "What's your problem, Lilly? The ranch hands call me 'boss'," he said.

"I am NOT her ranch hand!" Lilly shouted.

"No, but when you're in school, she's your boss," Ben reminded her.

Lilly sat down at the table, opposite her father.

"What does she know, anyway?" she complained. "All she talks about is fine stitches and how she cannot teach us proper music because the school has no piano... and then she makes us practise to curtsey..."

Lilly got worked up again. She looked at her father with blazing eyes, daring him to disagree, but Ben refused to comment.

"She isn't as clever as she thinks she is, Daddy. She doesn't know how to make hay, she doesn't know how to tend to a sick horse. She doesn't even ride! Damn the woman!"

Ben laughed. His daughter's roster of commendable abilities in a woman was just too funny, even though on some basic level he found he agreed with her. But in dealing with Lilly it wasn't good policy to admit to that.

Seeing her father laugh so heartily at her outburst, Lilly couldn't keep up her anger. She simply had to laugh, too.

Together, they sipped their drinks, then Ben nodded towards the satchel for her to pick up, and Lilly left her chair, heaving a sigh.

"You know, Lilly," Ben said as he rinsed his coffee mug, "there _are_ other worlds beside Indian Springs. In a big city nobody knows how to make hay or tend to a sick horse because they don't need to. In such a place it might come in handy to be able to curtsey and behave like a lady."

"I don't want to be a lady," Lilly stated matter-of-factly.

Ben only smiled at that. _Wouldn't hurt to take his girl to see a big city one day..._

 

~~~

 

That same evening Ben was guiding Ribbon along the main road of Indian Springs and cast a look around.  The town had changed a lot over the last five years. It had been expanding steadily. Behind the livery a carpenter's shop and a print shop had risen, and behind the saloon that used to mark the end of town, a blacksmith and a hardware shop had set up their trade.

Parallel to the main street there was another street now, a street just as broad as the main road. It was lined with buildings that did not only house numerous new families, but also accommodated shops of all kinds: a millinery, a jewellery shop, a clothes and quilt maker, a gun shop, a barber, a laundry service, and many more.

Although the newcomers had brought trade that was welcome, Indian Springs was getting too big for Ben's taste. The ever-present danger of someone recognising the face of the ex-outlaw Ben Wade grew with each new person arriving.

He sighed. _Couldn't be helped. It was the way it was._

He stopped Ribbon in front of the saloon. _A whisky would be nice. And a girl._

 

 

In the saloon Ben sat down at a corner table and cast a look around. There was a new girl serving drinks. Like all the whores she wore a colourful, revealing dress with lots of ribbons and laces. Her hair, however, was unusual. She had dark brown curls which she wore openly, just below her shoulders. There were no pins or feathers to adorn them, no combs to hold them in place. The hair swung around her head while she moved between the tables, it looked beautiful and completely natural amidst all the stylish heads of the other girls. When she turned Ben could see that she had a pretty face and was still quite young, no more than 21, or perhaps 23 years old.

In a decade or two, Ben mused, she would be like other women of her profession, worn down by too many men and too many long nights drowning her true self in whisky. Whatever it was that this job took out of the women, Ben had never seen it fail.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" A voice startled him out of his reverie. It was the new girl.

"You're new here," Ben said.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"How long you been here?"

"A week."

"What's your name, darlin'?" he inquired.

"Mary."

Ben smiled at her.

"I'll have a whisky."

She moved to leave his table but his voice stopped her.

"And get somethin' for yourself, too." He held her eyes with his. "Join me."

She nodded and went to the bar. Ben saw her talk with the barkeeper before she returned with two whiskies.

"Your whisky, Mr. Warner," she said. Ben smiled inwardly. _She had wanted to know who he was first. That was only fair. So now she knew he had money. But her expression said more than that; she was also cautious. He ran the largest ranch in Indian Springs. It wasn't wise to anger an important man. It was likely that she would do whatever he asked simply because she believed he could make her leave town._

Ben heaved a deep breath, almost like a silent sigh. _While he had been an outlaw people had been scared into doing things because of the fact that he might kill them. Now that he was a rancher things hadn't really changed, had they? People were still scared and they didn't act according to their free will. Did they ever?_

The girl had sat down opposite him. He sized her up, and she blushed under his gaze.

"How long you been in the business, girl?" he asked her.

Her perplexed look made him smile. _It was an expression that a saloon-keeper, a whoremaster – or an outlaw - might use. Whatever the barkeeper had told her about her prospective customer, with this one word 'business' he had successfully crushed any idea of hers that he might buy into the illusion that whoring was. He knew it was a business for the girls._

_But it didn't mean he didn't care what had made her walk this path._

She took a small sip of her whisky. "One year."

"Why?" His voice was low, almost purring.

Her smile was a little bit sad, a little bit helpless.

"I'm from St. Louis. Got married there. We came West to find a new life, make a fortune. Then my Timmy got ill and died. We had used up all our money, so I couldn't go back home. – Well, didn't want to, anyway. – But there was no one to help. A woman alone..."

She shrugged her shoulders and didn't finish the sentence. Ben just nodded. _Yes, he'd heard it all before. Single women without the protection of a husband, father, or brother were forced to work. There wasn't much honourable work that a woman could do while being on her own. And if you weren't family, people were reluctant to give you a job, never mind taking you into their own house, no matter how long they'd known you before._

"Yes, I understand," he said and downed his whisky. The girl could see that he really meant it.

"How much do you charge?" was his next question.

Again, the girl took a small sip. It was almost as if she derived courage from the liquor burning in her throat. _Was that why so many whores used to drink after a few years on the job,_ Ben wondered.

"5 dollars." But a look at the man opposite her made her add, "Well, it depends, of course..."

"How much do you charge for the whole night?" Ben asked.

She was astonished.

"Well... I don't know. I've never ha..." She broke off.

Since she had arrived in Indian Springs, Mary had had a lot of customers. Almost all the regulars in the saloon had wanted to 'try out' the new girl. But nobody had made a second offer so far, and nobody had wanted to stay the whole night. The other girls had told her that it rarely happened anyway. Sometimes when cowboys or ranch hands from the surrounding farms were in town, one of them would be inclined to spend his money like this. But a whole night's rate was a lot of money, and most of the men preferred to come back rather than spend the money merely on 'sleeping'.

"Tell you what, girl," Ben said. "I'll give you 5 dollars now. And then, after, _you_ decide whether or not we make it the whole night. And if we do, it's another 5. All right?"

Mary considered this. The man opposite her looked sincere. During her week at the saloon she hadn't heard any talk about the rancher Ben Warner. All she knew was what the barkeeper had told her, that he was the wealthiest rancher around, and that he had two children but no woman.

As a whore she was always at the mercy of the men who rented her. If he really gave her the choice to accept or refuse later, he was a rare man. If he wasn't one for beating her up to get his pleasure, she would make easy money tonight. Quickly, she made up her mind.

"Okay," she said and finished her whisky.

"Let's go, then," Ben said, and they both went upstairs to her room.

 

 

 

"You said you've been married. Did your husband ever give you pleasure, girl?" he asked her when they undressed.

Mary smiled at a memory.

"He was very nice."

Ben looked at her inquiringly. _Was she stalling his question or had she not understood what he had asked?_

"That's not what I asked, girl," he said.

_Sometimes married couples didn't give the impression of ever having that kind of fun. Oh well... men and women married for all kinds of reasons. And people were odd, anyway._

_But she had said that she had been on the job for a whole year. During this time she must have learned about orgasms – even if she had never heard of it before. And even if she hadn't had one herself, at least she must have heard tales from the other girls. Could she really not understand his question?_

Ben knew that whores always talked about their customers, comparing them, belittling them, and making fun of them. It was their only weapon to pay back the men they had to submit to.

Mary climbed into the bed and looked up at Ben.

"It wasn't important. He was always nice to me."

"What about your customers?"

She looked at him uncomprehendingly and he understood that it would be a first for her. He joined her in bed and his hand roamed along her body, playing with her breasts, caressing her belly and her thighs, slowly sneaking their way between her legs. _They had plenty of time._

He didn't plan on returning to the ranch this night. So for a first he meant to get her off using only his hands and watching her reaction to him.

She panicked at first, not used to this kind of treatment, not sure what she was supposed to do, but he shushed her.

"Lie back, girl. Don't fight this. Just relax."

The feeling of his mouth on her breasts did incredible things to her, and involuntarily her hands found their way to his head, and she softly stroked his hair. He took his time to explore her body and its needs. She was still young, and he wasn't sure how well she knew her job. Some women were naturals, and after a year on the job knew everything there was to know. Others had been on the job a lifetime and never surpassed a certain basic routine. As he touched and kissed, acquainting himself with her body and its reactions to him, an idea popped up in his mind. Slowly, he slid down, then he looked up at her.

"You had any man today, girl?"

She shook her head. He smiled and slid further down to her folds.

 

 _The girl had definitely never experienced this._ Her initial panic and later her surprised moans were proof of it. When she came she arched her back so much that his mouth lost contact for a moment.

He crawled up along her body to lie beside her. For several minutes he softly stroked her wild curls. When she had come down from her high, she looked at him in astonishment but didn't say anything.

He smiled at her – a cocky smile that showed clearly how pleased he was with himself.

"You ready for me now, girl?"

She smiled back and reached out for him while he climbed on top of her. He had been playing with her for so long, it didn't take him long to find his own release. But his mouth on her breasts and his thumb on her clit made sure she came again. She clung to him, and he felt every shiver of her body and every spasm.

Her hands were around his neck and in his hair. It was as if she tried to cling to him for dear life.

He let her hold him while they both came down from their high. Immediately after her orgasm she had held him so tight as if she never wanted to let him go again. But after a few moments she loosened her grip and looked at him, her cheeks wet with tears.

Ben leaned propped up on one arm. With his fingers he combed a few wild strands of hair out of her face, then he tenderly caressed her wet face while she kept looking at him in wonder.

It was at that moment she fell in love with his calloused hands, with his weather-worn face and blue-green eyes, and with the little bump between his eyebrows.

 

 

 

 


	2. Falling in love

The next morning – Ben had just returned home - Mrs. Miller arrived at the ranch. She had been keeping up her regular visits to Ben Warner and his children over the years. She doted on Lilly and enjoyed seeing the girl grow up. Lilly had learned from Mrs. Miller how to bake her favourite cookies, and without making it feel arduous, Mrs. Miller had enticed Lilly to learn to wash and iron, to keep a house clean, and to put a decent meal on the table.

Today it was sewing and mending. While a cake was baking in the oven, turning the kitchen into a nice-smelling place, Lilly and Mrs. Miller sat at the kitchen table. Mrs. Miller was mending socks and did some of the more difficult sewing that Lilly couldn't handle yet.

Lilly was sewing away at a piece of cloth, intent on finishing.

"This thing looks nice, Lilly," Mrs. Miller commented when she inspected the soft cloth Lilly was sewing on. "What is it?"

"It is a leg protector," Lilly answered.

"A _'leg protector'_?" _Well, it did rather look like a hose. But it was very small and slim. And why would you need only one?_

"What would you need a single leg protector for? Aren't trousers better, Lilly?"

Lilly laughed.

"It's not for a person, Mrs. Miller. It's for a horse!"

"A horse?" _Now, wasn't that typical of the girl? The cloth was one of the finest she had had in her store. She had sold it under the impression that it would eventually be made into a warm blouse or a skirt for the girl herself... and here she was using the expensive cloth for horses! What good were clothes for horses anyway?_

"One of our precious stallions hurt his leg. He gets a mud wrap to ease his pain. But the moment he moves around too much the wrap opens up. Now this cloth stretches. So it can go over the wrap and sit tight. I need just one or two more stitches, and then I can try it out."

 

 

"Perfect, Little Flower," was Ben's verdict.

They all stood around the animal, which was slightly alarmed by the presence of so many people nearby. The cloth Lilly had made held the wrap in place and protected the wound from any dirt the animal might step into.

Mrs. Miller screwed up her nose.

"You realise the animal will make this cloth dirty?" she asked.

Both Ben and Lilly laughed at that remark.

"But that's the whole point, Mrs. Miller," Lilly explained. "This way he can lie down in his box, can even roll in his muck, and it won't get to the wound on his leg."

Ben's arm snaked around Lilly's shoulder. He bent down and kissed her hair.

"Clever girl," was all he said while Mrs. Miller shook her head disapprovingly and ushered Lilly out of the barn and back into the kitchen.

 

 

"Now, what do _they_ want?" John asked Ben when they emerged from the barn and saw a group of riders approach.

Ben scanned them quickly. They were six altogether, all of them neighbours from surrounding farms and ranches. William and Mark Evans were among them. Ben and William nodded at each other, but it was another farmer, Jack Hale, who spoke up.

"It is unusually dry this year," he began.

Ben didn't move as much as a muscle. He was waiting to hear something that he _didn't_ know already.

Hale hesitated. He had never had business with Ben Warner before, and the man's stillness unnerved him somewhat. He glanced at the others, who nodded encouragingly. Hale cleared his throat.

"Already some of the smaller rivers have dried up. Only those ranches which are close to the Indian springs have rivers full of water."

Ben's ranch was close to those springs. _What was on Hale's mind?_

"We think that water should be free for all," Corey Simmons spoke up. Simmons had some cattle, but sometimes it seemed to Ben that his family was growing faster than his cattle herd.

Ben felt John move up from behind him, standing close. _Was he imagining it, or was his foreman taking a defensive stance against those men?_

Hale cleared his throat again. "If the rains won't come in time, we have to get water from... from the rivers that are not dried up yet." Hale hoped that this hint would suffice to explain their problem, but when he looked at his neighbour Warner, the man's eyes were hard, and there was no reaction from him.

"We are neighbours..." one of the others spoke up.

Ben nodded.

"I see. So you expect me to give you water." He cocked his head. "And what have I ever gotten from you?" His gaze swept over the men.

One of them, Curtis Williams, lowered his head and retreated behind his hat.

 

_Shortly after Ben had purchased the ranch, a thunderstorm had set his barn on fire. Seven of his horses had escaped to the meadows of Williams' farm. When Ben had come over and demanded his horses back, Williams had dared him prove that they were indeed his horses. Ben hadn't had a branding iron yet, and he was new to the job of ranching, so he hadn't thought of branding his horses to prove they were his._

_He remembered only too well sitting on Ribbon in front of Williams, who had pointed his rifle at him daring him to bring back Sheriff Davis and prove his point. Naturally, Ben had never fetched the Sheriff. He was used to evading the law, and so he never even contemplated asking the Sheriff for help. His, a stranger's, word against the word of Williams, a local who had been living in Indian Springs for years... At the time, Ben had had no doubt about the outcome. And he couldn't afford any undue attention, anyway._

_So he had turned and left – without the horses. Curtis Williams might have been surprised at Ben Warner's reaction, but he never offered to return the horses. And he evaded Ben Warner completely. Ben had later learned that he had sold the horses to pay off debts._

 

"Jesse Patterson has water, but he refuses to give us any," Hale said. He bent forward as if to speak privately to Ben, but his voice was loud enough for the others to hear. "Mr. Warner, we want you to help us convince Patterson that in times of need we have to help each other."

"If Patterson doesn't want to give you water from his river, then it's not my place to force him," Ben said. Again, he felt John move behind him. Unlike Ben, John displayed a barely concealed nervousness.

 

Ralph Armstrong was the oldest farmer among them. He and his wife had been in Indian Springs before anyone else. He was a likeable chap, a man who was generous with his neighbours and his friends. His eyes were serious. He had faced hardship before. And he had seen feuds, too. Feuds that set neighbour against neighbour and friend against friend. He spoke with the wisdom of age.

"If it's water we need to fight for, then it will be a hard fight," he said. "Myself and my wife, we've come through two droughts, and none of them were easy. The sooner people understand that we must work together and help each other with this, the less suffering there will be."

 

Ben had never been in such a situation before. Ever since he had grown up he had been self-sufficient. In all his adult life he had never experienced sharing or partnership – apart from the concerted teamwork of his gang members for mutual profit. _If he really did help them out now that he held the advantage, what guarantee did he have that they would ever help him once he was in need himself?_

Ben's eyes fell on Mark Evans, who had grown into a young man in Indian Springs. The young man stared at him full of hatred. His look certainly didn't invite Ben's generosity.

Then Ben searched William's eyes, and it was when they looked at each other that – all of a sudden - he was reminded of William's father, Dan Evans. _It had been a drought that had made Dan join up with the posse which was to bring him, Ben, to justice. Well... to the train, anyway. Without the pressure to see his family and ranch through the drought, Dan Evans would never have done such a thing. He could still be alive..._

William's eyes spoke to him – but what they meant to say Ben wasn't sure. _Was there reproach in them? Or an unspoken plea?_

Ben squirmed inwardly.  He didn't want to get involved! Folk were always trouble, even if they were neighbours and so-called friends. It was best to remain alone.

 

It was Hale who spoke up again. He seemed to be the spokesman for the whole group.

"Mr. Warner, will you help us re-distribute the water, so that everybody gets enough?"

There it was. The flat-out question everybody was waiting for. They were all curious what Ben Warner would answer. Surely, he could see that it was in his own best interest to help them?

But Ben shook his head.

"No, I will not," he said and saw Mark Evans shoot him another look of hatred.

"Ah... well, then there's nothing to be said, is there?" Hale muttered. Turning to the others he added, "We'll have to see what we can do about Patterson," and turned his horse. Before galloping off he turned to Ben again.

"I hope your water won't let up, Warner. Once you're without water, I doubt that others will help you."

 _As if they would anyway,_ Ben thought, but his eyes gave nothing away. Silently, he watched as all the men – William excluded – turned their horses and left the ranch.

When they were out of sight, Ben led William into the house and poured them each a drink.

 

"What are you gonna do?" William asked. "About their quarrel over the water, I mean."

"William, I solve _my_ problems, not other people's," Ben answered.

"Just like with Hollander," William said under his breath. Ben frowned. He didn't catch on immediately.

"The year when they caught you and you were in our house," William reminded Ben.

_Such a long time ago..._

"Hollander cut off our water because the river happened to flow through _his_ land first. He needed us broken because he wanted to sell our land to the railroad. Short of shooting him there was nothing my father could have done."

 _'We should just shoot him,' William remembered saying to his younger brother Mark. And he still believed he had been right then. Nobody would have missed Hollander, and the world would have been rid of a scumbag. But his father would never have used such methods,_ William thought as he looked at Ben. He could not imagine Ben Wade ever choosing the way Dan Evans did all those years ago.

"You are right," Ben said into William's eyes.

William frowned. "What?"

" _I_ would have shot him." William smiled at how easily Ben had read his thoughts. _Oh well... maybe, they weren't so hard to read in the present situation._

"Some people are best shot and done with," Ben said and downed his whisky.

That made William remember something he had always wanted to ask Ben.

"What happened to Tucker, anyway?" he asked.

Ben frowned. "Who?" He didn't remember the name.

"Tucker. Hollander's man who was with you when you left Bisbee. Mr. Butterfield never told me what happened to him."

Ben smirked at the memory and his thoughts dove into the past. For a moment he could feel again how the vicious little spikes of the fork he had stolen at the Evans' dinner-table poked into the soft flesh of Tucker's throat...

 

_The man had sung half the night keeping him awake. Then, perhaps two hours before dawn, he had fallen silent and had napped, and Ben had taken his chance: a stone had knocked Tucker unconscious. It hadn't been as hard a blow as he had wanted to, but considering that he was shackled at the time and couldn't move his hands freely, he had at least been able to stun the man so he couldn't sing out and alert the others. Then the little fork had finished him off._

 

William was watching Ben lost in thoughts of the past. His eyes had become slits, a smile was playing around his lips: obviously the memory was a sweet one for Ben.

 

_It had been good to feel the life slowly seep out of that bastard. And it had been right to get rid of the man. Of the whole posse, he had been closest to losing it; always his fingers at the trigger, always some humiliating remark on his lips..._

_In spite of the presence of McElroy, Tucker had been the only really dangerous man in the whole group. And Tucker had taken Ribbon from him! Ben and Ribbon were friends._ Nobody _took him away without paying for it._

"You're not gonna tell?" William asked after Ben remained silent.

"It's been fifteen years, William. It's finished," was all Ben said.

 

~~~

 

That evening Tommy decided to speak to his father about a really important issue.

"Dad...?" Tommy's voice sounded reluctant.

"What?"

"You know, my birthday is coming up..."

Ben waited patiently.

"You once said when you were seventeen, that was when you first... well, you know..."

Tommy cast a look at Lilly. _Perhaps his father didn't want him to speak about this subject in her presence..._

Lilly shot her brother a provocative look.

"You mean you wanna have your first girl. Wanna be a man. Think you can handle a girl?"

Tommy blushed violently and Ben lowered his head to hide his smirk. Having grown up with men only, and having been a regular witness to the ranch hands' randy jokes, Lilly probably knew more about the facts of life than the still somewhat prudish Tommy did.

Ben laughed inwardly at those two. _They were so different! And it was so typical that Lilly could make her older brother blush..._

"You have a particular girl in mind?" Ben asked Tommy before Tommy could answer Lilly.

 

_Wow! His father didn't even try to talk him out of it. But then why should he? He was very much a ladies' man. Tommy knew that Ben often frequented the saloon and knew all the girls there intimately._

_So it would seem that one of them was going to be his first woman. Did he have a favourite? Hell, he didn't even know them!_

Tommy shook his head.

Ben nodded.

"All right, Tommy. End of the week we go to the saloon."

 _Going to the saloon... not a bad idea,_ Ben mused when he saw Tommy's triumphant smile. _Perhaps he should ride down tonight and see if that new girl was free..._

 

_He was back!_

Mary smiled when she saw Ben Warner enter the saloon that night. Their eyes met across the room and Ben tilted his head slightly in greeting. A warm rush of excitement ran through her.

_They had only met the night before. And now he had come again. It could mean only one thing: that he was falling in love with her just as she had fallen in love with him!_

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Water for all

"Believe me, Bunnywhistle. That drought won't let up. Selling your land is the best you can do for your family."

Donald Burns' smugness wasn't lost on Joshua Bunnywhistle. _If he agreed to the sale, Burns would get his whole property for next to nothing. And then what? The money he was offering was barely enough to make it back to his brother's family in Utah. – No!_

Joshua Bunnywhistle bristled at the very idea. _This would be like declaring defeat! He couldn't... simply couldn't give up without trying his utmost. - Other people had come through droughts. They would, too!_

"Keep your money," he said to Burns, darting a scornful glance at the dollars Burns had put on the table in front of him. "We'll manage."

He turned and meant to leave, but was stopped by Burns' hearty laughter.

"A few more weeks, Bunnywhistle, then you have to sell anyway. But don't think I'll ever offer you that much for your land again."

It was fortunate that Donald Burns couldn't see the hatred that suddenly sprung forth from Joshua Bunnywhistle's eyes.

 _Burns was a cutthroat! One day someone would shoot him dead._ Joshua Bunnywhistle was sure of it.

_But he wouldn't be the one. He would make sure that he and his wife would get through all right. And that he would still be around to see Burns receive his just reward._

_He still had another option. He would start digging a well on his land. Perhaps his neighbours Carter and Baker would help him. There was a good chance that there was water to be found. If they only managed to dig deep enough..._

_~~~_

 

"It's getting serious for us, boss. The North River has completely dried up, and the river behind the house is almost gone. We've only got the big river to the east left."

Ben nodded. He and John were looking at the northern meadows which weren't lush any longer. _It wasn't just the drinking water – and horses needed a lot of water. Without enough water the grass would be gone soon. And they simply couldn't bring in feed for more than 100 horses._

"We might have to bring the water from the river to the horses," John mused.

"We can't do that.  That's ridiculous, John. We'll just drive the horses to the river."

"Yeah, but you know that we can't mix them all together. What will happen when you drive them up here to the smaller meadow and then leave them here? They will start fighting."

Ben nodded. John was right. He couldn't just form them into one big herd. Some horses didn't get along with each other, and there would be fighting. On top of that, the meadow that had access to the east river was too small to hold all the horses at once. If they hadn't enough space to get out of each other's way, they might fight and wound each other to the point of having to be shot.

"There _will_ be fighting," John repeated.

Ben watched his foreman as he gave voice to his thoughts.

"People, I mean. Soon people will fight each other. They will leave no stone unturned to get rid of their neighbours." John looked at Ben and noted Ben's eyes on him. "They won't stop. Not where water is concerned. I've seen it before."

Ben hadn't. He had never stayed long enough to muse about people's problems. As an outlaw who was hunted the moment the wrong people set eyes on him, he had solved problems by jumping on his horse and riding off.

Again the face of Dan Evans rose before his inner eye. _Being settled and having to care for a family made it all different. Packing your bags and leaving took on a different dimension when you had family to consider._

Ben placed his forearm on the saddle's pommel and leaned on it, considering what to do.

_Could he take his kids and just leave? Start anew somewhere? – Yes, if things got worse this was still an option. It wasn't what he wanted to do. In spite of the hard work he actually liked his life as it was now, but life didn't always give you a chance to enjoy it. Sometimes you had to start all over again._

He sighed and turned Ribbon to ride into town. He had promised Tommy they would meet in the saloon that evening.

 

 

When Mary saw Ben enter the saloon her smile changed from the practised 'business' smile she usually wore to a beaming smile that included her eyes and her whole face.

Ben sat down at his favourite table in the corner. A second later she was standing beside him.

"Ben..." she smiled down at him. He leaned back in the chair, took her hand and kissed it. Then he smiled up at her.

"Hello, darlin'. Sit down."

Eagerly she complied.

"I need your help, darlin'." She felt honoured that he would ask her; he could see it in her smile.

"What do you want me to do, Ben?"

"I am expecting my son Tommy. It's his first time with a girl. I want to treat him to something special..."

Her face fell. He couldn't help smiling at that. Naturally, she thought that he meant to buy her services for Tommy. He lowered his head for a moment so that his hat would hide his smile from her. When he looked up again he saw tears in her eyes. It changed everything.

He had meant to tease her a bit further, but her sad eyes stopped his game right in its tracks. His hand went out to cover hers.

"No, darlin'. Not you. One of the other girls. – Now, which of the girls do you think would treat him right? I need to make sure he has a real good time and the girl knows how to be patient with him."

A tear escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. She was laughing now, using the back of her hand to brush off the tear.

"Violet." She pointed to a blond, vivacious girl at the bar. Naturally, Ben knew her. _Yes, Violet was very professional. And for the money he would be paying her he was sure she would be doing her very best._

"Ask her over."

 

 

Half an hour later Tommy arrived, all nerves. When he saw Ben sitting at a corner table with two girls, he hesitated. _Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to do this right now, was it? Just because his father had started at seventeen didn't mean he had to..._

For a moment he observed the trio at the table. The two girls were in animated conversation. Ben was sitting opposite them, leaning back in his chair and listening with a superior smile. The blond, bosomy girl was gesticulating and laughing, the dark-haired one listened in rapt attention. Then she turned to look at Ben. Tommy saw Ben place his hand on the table with its palm up. The girl smiled and she placed her hand into Ben's, small compared to his.

_The girl's smile was nice. And it promised something he had only ever encountered in his wet-dreams._

Tommy was enraptured. He suddenly remembered why he had come to the saloon that night. Measuredly he walked over to where his father sat with the two girls.

"Tommy." Ben greeted him with a nod.

Tommy looked at Violet and Mary. Violet held out her hand.

"I'm Violet," she introduced herself with a sultry smile.

"Nice name," Tommy managed to stammer.

Violet smiled.

"A _flower's_ name," she said with a look that matched her smile.

"A _beautiful_ flower's name," Tommy corrected, swallowing her bait. Ben smiled. _Not bad, boy,_ he thought.

Violet giggled. She pointed to a free chair and Tommy sat down. For a moment he was looking a bit lost, not quite knowing how to behave. Violet decided to help him.

"Thank you. And I am also as... delicate... as the flower."

Mary almost choked on her drink, and even Ben smiled at her words. _Delicate_ was not a word anybody who knew her connected with Violet.

"I am sure you are right," Tommy said, mustering his best manners and most sophisticated language. "Seeing you, how could anybody believe less?"

Flattered, Violet smiled and moved closer to Tommy. Tommy, however, took a close look at Mary.

"What is your name?" he asked her.

Mary cast a shy look at Ben.

"Mary," she answered Tommy.

Tommy held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mary."

When Mary took his hand he raised it to his lips and blew a kiss on it. Ben was still leaning back in his chair, watching the trio in front of him. Violet steamed. Tommy's kiss had made her jealous. After all, he was _her_ customer.

Mary didn't know what to do. Ben simply lifted her other hand which was still in his and slowly and deliberately he guided it to his lips and kissed it.

But it was his look at Tommy that sent his message across. Tommy backed off immediately. 

"You coming, darlin'?" Ben squeezed Mary's hand and eased out of his chair. Quickly, Mary rose with one of her radiant smiles.

"Yes, Ben."

It was the signal for Tommy, and he rose, too, extending his hand to Violet. All artificial elegance and grace, she accepted his hand and gave him a smile that made him blush.

The four of them went upstairs, and Ben and Mary vanished in her room for a night of tender love-making.

 

 

The light disturbed him in his sleep. _Had he overslept?_ He turned but hit something. _Something soft and warm. Somebody was in his bed!_

Confused, Tommy opened his eyes and beheld Violet sleeping soundly beside him. It took him a while to remember that he wasn't in his own bed and what had happened the evening before.

But once triggered, his memory went on overdrive, and his body reacted with a vengeance. _Wouldn't be bad to repeat last evening's entertainment, would it?_

He turned to the sleeping girl and shook her awake.

"Ohh..." she moaned. Violet was not a morning person. She beheld Tommy and another groan escaped her.

"Oh, it's you. - What do you want?"

He grinned and tried to position himself above her.

"You know you ain't be getting this for free," she said. "It's your Pa paid me for the night, but now the night's over, the poke's on you."

For a moment Tommy was taken aback, but he was already too aroused to stop.

"How much?" he asked business-like, and now Violet opened her arms to accommodate him.

"That depends on what you want, honey," she cooed.

Violet knew that she had a gold mine in the form of a young, inexperienced man in her arms, and she intended to make the most of it. Slowly, her hand slid along his back to his buttock...

 

~~~

 

When Ben arrived at the ranch the next morning William Evans was already there, waiting for him. He had come to fetch Ben and John to a meeting in town about the precarious water situation.

At first, Ben refused to go, but John convinced him that it would be better to be there. After all, only when present would he be able to speak on his own behalf. And it might also come in handy to learn what other people were up to, to find out where they stood.

Resigned, Ben mounted his horse again.

 

When they arrived in town the church, where the meeting was held, was filling up fast. William moved to the front pew to sit beside his mother. Ben and John found seats in the pew directly behind them.

Ben cast a look around: Hale, Curtis, and Simmons were seated together, whispering among each other and gesticulating. The Pattersons in one of the front rows were stone-faced. Mrs. Patterson was looking straight at him, and Ben felt compelled to nod a greeting to her, his finger touching the rim of his hat as usual, but her stony expression didn't change.

The people were edgy, whispering and fidgeting, and the whole atmosphere had an explosive quality.

Ben was suddenly seized by a feeling of claustrophobia.  He didn't want to be here! Didn't belong with these people who herded together in times of crisis, ready to get at each others' throat. He was close to bolting when he remembered John's words of advice, that in order to be prepared it was important to learn what the others were up to.

Ben knew John was right. After all, it was a rule he himself had always lived by: watching people to gauge their mood... thinking ahead and anticipating where they were headed... and when the time was right manipulating them into doing what _he_ needed them to do! It wasn't difficult to understand the benefits of such an attitude – especially when you were on your own and always had to watch your back! All you needed was the patience to observe properly - the patience of a predator lying in wait for his kill to become careless or take a step in the wrong direction. He had done it all his life. And yet, today the necessary patience eluded him. All he felt was caged!

 

"Water should be free for all!" Hale shook his fist to emphasize what he felt so passionately about, shaking Ben out of his musings and back into reality.

"Aye."  

"You're right, Hale."  

"Patterson must share."  

"Aye, he must."

Ben looked at Jessie Patterson and his wife. Mrs. Patterson cast a hateful glance at Hale while her husband stared straight ahead, his jaw locked, no doubt clenching his fists to control himself.

Jeremiah Jones, the banker, shook his head at Hale's statement. _He had never heard such nonsense. Everything had its price. The scarcer a product, the higher its price. That was the nature of supply and demand, and the reason why some businesses grew while others withered away._

"The law must do something!" Corey Simmons cast an accusing glance at the sheriff.

Ben perked up. _Incredible, what people demanded of the law when they couldn't solve their own problems. Was that really how townspeople worked together?_ He was curious as to what Sheriff Davis would answer.

"Now, here," Sheriff Davis tried to quiet the voices down, "I can only do something if someone's broken the law. Not wanting to share is not against the law."

Patterson nodded. _At least Sheriff Davis got it right. If he were to share his precious water with all his neighbours, there wouldn't be enough left for his own family. And if in the end there wasn't enough for himself and his family, they would starve._

He straightened his back to defend himself. His wife's small hand took his in a squeeze.

"Don't you give in, Jesse," she whispered urgently.

Reassuringly, he squeezed back and rose.

"I don't have enough to share with everyone," he said. "If I give you too much, then my own fields will perish. I'm not sacrificing my family for you!"

People started murmuring again. Patterson's simple, honest words had hit a mark.

 

"Unlawful or not, if nothing happens, we must all pack and leave before long!"

"Aye. Something must happen. People must be forced to share!"

Some people turned their head to eye Ben. After all, he, too, still had access to water. And if Jesse Patterson and Ben Warner could be forced to share their water, then life might still go on as usual.

The oldest of the farmers, Ralph Armstrong, shook his head. _When would people ever learn that the only way to get through a drought was to help each other?_

When the murmuring subsided, Donald Burns rose from his seat. "There's no point in waiting for rain that won't come," he stated, "best pack and be gone."

That statement brought an outcry from the side of the farmers.

"You don't have a say in that, Burns. You only wait for us to leave so you can get your hand on our land!" Curtis Williams shouted angrily.

 

Doc Martens was sitting in the last pew – a quiet observer of the melting pot of emotions that simmered all around him. He wasn't worried for himself. People always needed a doctor.

But as Burns sat down again, silenced by Curtis Williams' remark, the doctor happened to look at his face. _Had that been a grin? Was Williams right about Burns? – Of course. Burns had been trying to buy the farmers' lands cheaply ever since the drought had started. It would seem that he had cash reserves that allowed him to sit the drought out comfortably._

 _Everybody in town knew that Donald Burns received regular deliveries of goods from Pah-Rimpi, goods that came from even further off by railroad! Nobody knew how he made so much money, but if he had enough money to stuff his house with luxuries from afar,_ the doctor mused, _he might well have enough to buy whole farms. And it was easier to buy them on the cheap during a drought. So, naturally, Burns wasn't interested in sharing. He could only profit from anybody willing to sell his land..._

Joshua Bunnywhistle had grimaced at Curtis Williams' words, too. _Williams was right. Burns and his insulting offers to buy up their land was like a Damocles' sword hanging over all of them. Digging that well was becoming imperative. He would talk to his friend and neighbour Baker as soon as the meeting was over..._

 

Suddenly Alice Evans, who sat in front of Ben, burst into tears. Ben saw William's arm snake around her shoulders, and hug her. _Yeah, it had been a drought that had made Dan Evans go off with the posse in the hope to make some money._

Alice Evans' tears had put a stop to the quarrel that had been threatening to break out. People were silent except for an occasional murmur. Ben saw William stand up. He cleared his throat.

"Everybody needs water," he said. "Those who still have water could sell it to their neighbours instead of giving it out for free. That way both parties profit."

"Why pay? Water should be free!" Hale repeated his earlier statement.

"If you haven't got enough, then you have to buy it and pay for it. It's as simple as that," William said. His handsome face was serious. He _knew_ what he spoke about.

 

"Pah-Rimpi has water," a voice from the back said.

"Aye," Sheriff Davis nodded. "They are closer to the Artesian springs than we are. Maybe we should come to an agreement with them."

"They will only rip us off!"

"Aye, they know we are hard up.  They will want to make money out of us!"

"We could try."

"We don't have enough money to buy water. The people in Pah-Rimpi are not dumb. Once they know that we need their water, they won't sell cheap."

Emotions were running high again as people shouted their opinions. Sheriff Davis shook his head in sorrow. _No point in calming them down yet. It was their very existence they were fighting for, and their fears had to find an outlet._

 

Ben sat amidst the tide of voices flowing around him like an immutable rock. His feeling of claustrophobia had been replaced by a feeling of utter indifference, almost contempt.

_What good was this talking? If there was a problem, you acted. And if it couldn't be solved, you gave up, rode off, and started somewhere anew._

Astute observer and expert reader of people that he was, he had learned more about the townspeople during this one meeting than he had in all the years he had spent in Indian Springs. He saw the friendships and the animosities, spotted the undercurrents of sympathy or hatred. He felt the people's barely veiled willingness to get at each others' throats – out of fear, for lack of a scapegoat. And for the first time in his life he was sickened by it.

_All this talk was so futile!_

He wished he could just jump up and leave this place!

 

"There may be a solution," Jeremiah Jones suddenly said, and everybody fell silent.

Ben looked over to where the banker sat and he saw Tommy smile proudly at Jones and nod encouragement.

Slowly, Jones rose from his seat and turned to the people.

"I could cable some of the big banks in Chicago or San Francisco and ask for a loan. Of course, we would have to put up guarantees for the bank – land, jewellery... whatever you've got that a bank can accept as security."

"What makes you think that a bank would give us money?" Donald Burns asked.

"Simple," Jones answered. "They will want interest paid. As long as the banks can be sure to profit from this town's misfortune, they will do business with us."

That sunk in, and for a moment everybody was silent.

 

"The banks in Chicago may be willing to give money to you, Mr. Jones," Hale said, "but they sure won't give any money to me. I am nobody to them."

"Aye."  

"Hale is right."  

"It's not gonna work."  

"Maybe it will. Let the man explain."  

"Yeah. Let Jones speak."

"We wouldn't appear by name," Jeremiah Jones explained. "The credit would be given to the town, and everybody would receive as much money as they need, and in turn do what they can to repay the town's debt."

The people had never heard of such concerted action and started murmuring. _Could it work?_

Ralph Armstrong squeezed his wife's hand. _Finally. People were finally learning to help each other._

The murmuring increased.

"It sounds reasonable enough," the Reverend said.

"The only idea someone has come up with that will help _all of us_." Sheriff Davis added his voice.

"Well... what do you all think?" Sheriff Davis asked. "Is it agreed that Mr. Jones will borrow money for the town?"

 

There was some more murmuring, but in the end everybody agreed. After all, it had been the only suggestion that helped everybody alike.

"I will need to know exactly how much everybody will need over the coming months," Jones said, his demeanour already all business. "Each of you will have to see me in my bank."

The people filed out of church, relieved that at least someone would do something.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. The red-haired girl

After their meeting some of the men went to the saloon to have a drink. There was a new girl there. Ben's eyes fell upon her the moment she moved. She had a slender, chiselled face, blue eyes, and red hair which she wore in an elaborate, curly hairstyle. Her dress was classy and elegant. It was one of those expensive dresses the whores wore in big cities like San Francisco.

Her skin was pale, the colour of her dress was even lighter than her skin. She didn't wear make-up – except for some black accentuating her eyes – quite the opposite to all the other girls. Her movements were elegant, almost regal. Ben took a long look; that woman was like a blossoming flower in a dry desert.

"This is Mattie," Harris, the barkeeper introduced her to Ben, who couldn't stop looking at her.

"Where you from, girl?" Ben asked.

Mattie hesitated.

"Redemption," she answered. Some of the patrons smiled. _Was there such a town?_ Ben's eyes had widened in surprise.

"Herod's town?" he asked her. Mattie was taken aback. _He knew John Herod._

"It's no longer his town," she said reluctantly.

Now Ben was intrigued.

"What happened? Someone kill him?"

Again, Mattie hesitated, then she nodded. Then both became aware of the stares of the patrons around them. There was an interesting story here, people could tell, and everybody waited for Mattie and Ben to spill it.

Ben's gaze swept over her. He held out his hand to Mattie. After a moment's hesitation she took it.

"Let's sit down, girl," Ben said, moving towards one of the tables where William Evans and Jeremiah Jones sat. "We'll talk some other time," Ben said under his breath only for her to hear.

 

The men and the girls talked for a while, but then Ben rose and walked over to the bar where John stood.

"I'm off, John," he let him know. John nodded.

"Me too, boss."

"John Smith."

The name was spoken like a challenge, and both John and Ben turned to see who the speaker was. But it was too late for John to be able to react. Two men who had walked up right behind him jumped him.

The three men fell to the ground, crashing a few glasses and taking some patrons with them. Then the two attackers both drew knifes...

 

In the blink of an eye the game had changed. John didn't think of drawing his gun against a knife. Instead he assumed a fighting stance that spoke of ample experience with this type of attack.

Without interference from anybody the two men continued their attack on John, who retaliated with dodges and pushes, kicks and blows, until one of the knifers dropped his weapon and John managed to grab hold of it.

 

The game had changed again.

Ben was watching John closely. He discovered a man he had never seen before. In front of him was an instinctive fighter. John wielded the knife like a pro, deftly evading the attackers' moves, retaliating, and putting them under pressure...

Everybody watched the fight. The people were mesmerized. Ben, however, was also alert to draw his gun and help John should he need it. A particularly vicious move by one of the men threw John off balance. He slipped and fell on his back. One of the two men saw a chance and jumped him – spearing himself right on the knife which John had held in front of himself as defence. A loud groan escaped the attacker, then he slumped on John and lay motionless.

John pushed him off and knelt over him, making sure the man could no longer fight back. But he was safe – his attacker was dead. For a short moment John was distracted. The second man saw his chance. He tried to jump John's back and would have gripped his chin with one hand to slit John's throat with his knife - if Ben's bullet hadn't gone right through his hand!

Knifers were a silent lot. If they didn't crash into something during a fight, nothing could be heard. But Ben's shot made everybody jump. The women screamed and the men ducked. The knifer groaned; his hand was dripping blood.

John had turned at the shot and taken in the situation. Ben had saved his life. Ben glanced over to John and briskly nodded confirmation – his attention never really diverted from the knifer who now held his bleeding hand.

A few minutes later the sheriff had been summoned and the dead man was carried out to be taken care of by the undertaker. The surviving knifer was hauled off to jail.

Ben and John followed the sheriff at a slower pace. Ben was thinking about the fight he had just witnessed. John had never really advertised much information about himself. He was the most reliable man he had ever known. _Was there something he, Ben, had to know about?_

"Anything you want to tell me, John?" he asked casually.

For a few paces they looked at each other, each man taking the other's measure. John knew Ben's question was posed for caution, was also an offer, perhaps even a challenge. He thought about it for a moment.

"Nah, boss," he finally said, then he took a deep breath.

"Done some things in my life I'm not too proud of. Just don't like to be reminded of them, is all."

It was as if John had described Ben himself with these words. Again, they held each other's gaze. A smile settled deeply in Ben's eyes, a smile that didn't show anywhere else on his face.

"I don't care what a man was, only what he is, John," he closed the matter. Then the two of them entered the sheriff's office.

 

~~~

 

When Ben returned to the ranch that day Lilly still hadn't returned from school. She didn't show up until late in the afternoon.

"Why are you so late back home?" Ben greeted Lilly, but when she came closer he could see that her dress was torn and dirty. A look into her face revealed a black eye.

Ben crossed his arms.

"What happened?"

Lilly slid down her mare.

"Miss Hargrove made me stay after class."

_Maybe so, but she was hardly the cause of Lilly's black eye._

Patiently, Ben waited her out.

Lilly took the saddle off her mare and hauled it on the corral's top rail. After she had led the mare into the corral and put the bridle on the saddle she turned to face her father.

"Arthur Burns called me a 'disgrace' in front of everyone. So I showed him."

"You _showed him?"_ Ben echoed incredulously.

Lilly nodded. "I pushed him, and he ended up on his bum. And when he got up I pushed him again and then jumped on him."

Ben tried to stay serious, but it wasn't easy.  Her heart was in the telling, and he could imagine the scene easily. He lowered his head so Lilly couldn't interpret the look in his eyes. He didn't know yet how to handle this.

"That's when he hit me back and gave me the black eye," Lilly continued matter-of-factly, and it was this careless admission of hers that suddenly put things into a different perspective for Ben and made him snap.

"You're a girl, Lilly, a girl!" he barked at her. "Girls don't fight with boys! And girls don't roll in the dirt!"

Hurt by his rejection, Lilly placed her hands on her hips.

"Oh, so you'd rather someone calls me names? Are you telling me I shouldn't fight back? – 'Turn the other cheek', or what was that quote again?"

Ben's eyes blazed fire. _No, it wasn't an attitude he subscribed to. But that didn't mean he meant for her to fight physically!_

"There are lots of ways to get back at someone without you getting a black eye in return. – Now, get into the house and prepare dinner!"

He turned away from his daughter before she could work herself up more and strode into the barn.

_Wasn't it typical of his girl? Instead of waiting for anybody's help she had taken matters into her own hand. - Wasn't a bad trait of character, definitely not. That girl would make her way, no matter what. Of this he was sure._

A proud smile settled on Ben's face, a smile only spotted by John, whom he passed along the way.

 

~~~

 

“You sure we should dig here, Bunny?” Adam Carter asked his friend and neighbour, Joshua Bunnywhistle.

“Yeah. Why we diggin' here?” Joseph Baker echoed. “That's _your_ land. We find water, it's yours. An' if we don't, we was wasting our time...”

“We all know that there is water down there,” Bunnywhistle confirmed what was common knowledge. “The only thing is we don't know how deep we have to dig.”

“Not an easy job,” his friend Carter added, “might take weeks, Bunny. Would be good to have a drilling rig. I've seen those cable tool rigs. They dig on, no matter how deep you need to go... and none of that back-breaking work, shovelling out earth, and stones, and mud."

"Aye, and getting your feet wet," Baker added.

"That's all very well," Bunnywhistle commented, "but do you have the money to pay for one of those rigs, Adam?"

Carter grimaced. Naturally, neither of them had any money to spare, and drilling equipment wasn't only expensive, it would have to come from far away. If truth were told, Adam Carter didn't even know where to find the proper equipment. Having seen a drilling rig once wasn't the same as being able to get one. If they meant to dig a well, they would have to use their bare hands.

"What if it's all for nothing?" Baker repeated his worry.

He had his reasons. This well was his last chance. Arthur Burns had already made an offer for his land, and the way his situation was at the moment, Baker was genuinely tempted to accept it. If they didn't find water - and soon - he had no choice but to sell his land.

"I ain't digging anything before you promise that all the water we find belongs to the three of us, Bunnywhistle," Joseph Baker made his point.

The three neighbours looked at each other, torment written in their eyes. Then Joshua Bunnywhistle said two just words:

"I promise."

 

~~~

 

"Thank you, Reverend."

"Believe me, Mrs. Evans. God wouldn't send us these tests without knowing that we can pass them."

Alice Evans gave a short, decisive nod and left the church.

Reverend McCarthy took a deep breath. _Sometimes, it wasn't easy being a shepherd to his flock and instilling into them the courage and the will to persevere._

He looked at Alice Evans as she walked out of the church... calm, composed, upright. _That woman had known hardship before. The way she had talked about the drought which had taken her husband away..._

The Reverend hoped that one day she would overcome her pain and perhaps want to face life again – and love.

"Reverend McCarthy..."

The Reverend turned. _Ah... Mrs. Mangold. Come to get her daily dose of hope and faith. That one was easy._

 

~~~

 

It had become a rare sight to see Tommy at the breakfast table. Oh well... after all, the saloon was just across the road.

"Dad..."

"Hm...?"

"Can you give me some money?"

"Jones doesn't pay you enough?" Ben was surprised. Jeremiah Jones was a most generous employer, and he was paying Tommy almost as much as Ben's ranch hands received – more than any apprentice could hope to earn.

"It's..."

Ben was astonished: Tommy was actually blushing. It was a rare sight these days; the boy had become very cocky.

"I've spent it all."

His confession surprised Ben even more. Tommy was tight-fisted about his money. Whatever it was that he had bought with it, it must be really dear to him. Otherwise he would never have parted with his whole wage.

Tommy cleared his throat and looked expectantly at his father.

Ben raised his eyebrow and waited him out. He was curious.

Sheepishly, Tommy looked at his feet and, like a restless horse, his foot scraped the floor.

"I wanna visit Violet..." he said, then looked up into Ben's eyes with an embarrassed expression.

Ben laughed aloud at Tommy's admission. _Looked like the boy was a man, after all._

Fifteen minutes later Tommy had ten dollars in his pockets and was on his way into town.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Miss Hargrove's visit

"Good morning, Sheriff."

John entered the Sheriff's office reluctantly.

"What do you want, John?" Sheriff Davis asked. He was in a particularly bad mood this morning. His wife had smashed in his head – literally. He re-arranged his hat to cover the huge bruise over his left temple.

She had always been jealous of the fact that his job made him a regular visitor to the saloon. When he had tried to explain to her that the saloon girls had helped him with their information concerning the knifers and the fight, and that it wasn't in his professional interest to make an enemy of them, she had simply seen red. She had called the girls 'brazen hussies' and him a 'lewd man' when all he had done was arresting a man and asking the saloon patrons – and the girls – whether anybody knew him.

In her anger his wife had taken a tin plate she was about to wash and had smacked him over the head with it. The rim had hit him right over the temple, almost knocking him out. The blood had been gushing out as if she had wanted to slaughter him...

 

John cleared his throat.

"Am... I would like to speak to your prisoner, Sheriff."

"What prisoner?"

"The man you put in jail yesterday. The one who attacked me."

"Oh, that one. He's already gone, John."

"Gone?"

John was aghast. _How could he have escaped? Who had helped him?_ – A quick look around revealed that everything in the sheriff's office looked absolutely normal. There was no sign of a violent break-out. And yet... the sheriff had rubbed his temple and had been quick to cover his head – what had happened?

"How did he escape?"

"He didn't. I let him go."

"You let him go? Why?"

John sounded shocked. Sheriff Davis frowned.

"Now, look here, John. You yourself told me that you don't know the man and that you don't bear any grudges against each other."

"That's right. But I knew the second man. The one he came with."

"Yeah, but you also told me you have no idea why this man attacked you. You said all you ever done was play cards with him."

John grimaced. _True. He had said that, desperate to get the sheriff – and Ben Warner – off his scent. He hadn't known then that Ben Warner would stand by him, that he trusted him so much that he didn't even ask for an explanation._

"Have you lied to me, John?" Sheriff Davis now asked, a scrutinizing look on his face. "Is there something I should know?"

"No!"

John's reaction came a bit too rash to sound convincing, and so he took a deep breath to calm himself. Looking steadily into Sheriff Davis' eyes he said, "I just wanted to know why he attacked me."

"But, John, he told me that yesterday. Said the dead man was a card buddy. Said that this man held a grudge against you and told him to back him up in his attack on you. He swore he didn't know you personally – and you confirmed this, John. – and that if I wanted to learn more I should ask you. – Now, you wanna tell me anything else?"

John saw Sheriff Davis look expectantly at him – and shut down. _Sheriff Davis would not learn how he had come to know the dead knifer. Not if he could help it!_

He shook his head. "There's nothing to tell, Sheriff. Like I told you yesterday, we played cards once and I won. He tried to kill me then. I didn't think we would ever meet again." That was as close to the truth as John could afford to tell.

Sheriff Davis' look bore into John's. _No. John was sincere, he could tell. He might not tell everything but he didn't lie. If he didn't tell about his past, that was his own affair._

When John left the sheriff's office his thoughts were like a whirlwind: _Blacky's brother dead and the second man gone – probably on his way back to Blacky and his gang. Now, it would only be a matter of time before Blacky would find and kill him._

Even as he rode back to the ranch, his thoughts kept spinning. _What was he to do? Short of running he had no options._ A moan escaped his lips. _He didn't want to run!_

He thought about the ranch and his easy comradeship with the ranch hands. _He had never had a home before – and now he did! There was his job, there was Ben Warner, there was the little pumpkin who loved him like he was her father..._

In the distance he could see the familiar meadows filled with horses. _No. He would not leave. He was done with running!_

 

~~~

 

"Oh no... what does _she_ want?" Lilly asked tetchily when a wagon arrived and she recognised Miss Hargrove.

Ben was thinking much the same. He had other worries on his mind than placating some aggrieved lady-teacher. Nevertheless, he shot Lilly a significant look, saying, "You really can't think of anything, Lilly?" – a remark to which Lilly grimaced – then he went to greet his guest.

 

"So I thought it wise to make a point and keep her after school," Miss Hargrove concluded her version of the fight Lilly had told him about.

Ben had already filled Miss Hargrove's mug with coffee and now put a plate with cookies in front of her. When she bit into one she raised her eyebrows in astonishment. They were delicious.

Ben, too, picked a cookie and dunked it in his coffee.

"She told me about it," he said. "The Burns' boy called her a name, and so she made him pay for it. She thinks she was right to do so," he concluded.

For a moment Marguerite felt like she had to launch into a lecture about good behaviour, but when she looked into Ben Warner's face and beheld his serious eyes all her platitudes shattered.

He didn't condone Lilly's behaviour, either.  She could see it in his eyes. And for a man on his own, it couldn't be easy to raise a girl like Lilly.

Suddenly, unbidden images rose in front of Marguerite Hargrove: the image of a wealthy rancher courting a lady-teacher, the image of sun-soaked, lush meadows filled with horses, the darkness of a barn and the smell of a man coming close...

_That had been almost five years ago. He still looked very masculine. But also vulnerable._

It was a trait Marguerite had never noticed before. Or perhaps, she had never been willing to notice it.

 _He never could be harsh with the girl,_ she remembered.  _H_ _e hadn't been when she was a toddler, and he hadn't been later on when Lilly had first come to school and become a little rebel against school discipline. No, this man could not ever be strict with her, and it was simply because he loved her so much._

The sudden insight into a father's soul brought up another thought in Marguerite, a thought she had never allowed herself to think before, either.

_What if this man loved a woman? Truly took her to his heart? - He wouldn't be severe against her, either. And yet, to the outside world he was a tough man, a man to be reckoned with. The face he presented to the world had once seemed uncouth and uncivilised to her, something to be changed at all cost..._

Ben saw Marguerite Hargrove's eyes shift as she watched him, and he wondered what she was thinking. As ever, he couldn't quite read her. She wasn't really in his league... and, if truth were told, she wasn't really the type of woman he wanted to be close to. But she was Lilly's teacher, and for the sake of his little tomboy, he would have to humour her...

Her eyes on him made him feel uncomfortable. _If he only knew what she was thinking..._

 

_Once upon a time she had wanted to become 'Mrs. Warner', had wanted to become mistress of this ranch. And a horse ranch, at that. It was ridiculous! She didn't even like horses. But back then she had believed that it was the only way for her to secure her future. 'Future'. - What an arbitrary word for the events that happened to you, the things life threw into your face and you had to deal with..._

_Yes, life at the side of a man might be easier. She wouldn't have to deal with everything – everything! – on her own. But wouldn't it also mean having to negotiate every single step? Having to adapt, having to forego, having to sacrifice?_

Again, Marguerite's eyes rested on the man in front of her.

_A man like Ben Warner might offer Heaven to the right woman. But she, Marguerite, wasn't the right woman for him, just like he wasn't the right man for her. And she didn't really need or want that sort of Heaven, either. She didn't want to give up her independence, even if it meant living a very modest way of life on a small salary in a small town tucked away in the Southernmost corner of Nevada._

A weight lifted from Marguerite as she completed her circle of thoughts, a weight that had been pressing her down ever since she had left New Orleans after the death of her mother.

She took a deep breath; a small smile played around her mouth.

_She was finally free to pursue the life she wanted, free of the restraining idea of having to marry at all costs._

 

Ben saw Marguerite Hargrove smile, a smile that didn't look aloof or amused. Instead, it looked almost... tender. He had never seen her smile like that. It was the most attractive smile he had ever seen on her. _Whatever it was she was thinking about, it had made her truly happy._

Marguerite herself felt almost elated. _She understood him better now. And herself, too. And although she didn't wish to be 'Mrs. Warner' any longer, she could finally appreciate the qualities of the man she had once called 'lewd and immoral'._

"It can't be easy for you to raise Lilly all by yourself. I understand that," she said softly.

"You do?" _Could a woman like her really understand a girl like Lilly?_

She nodded. "Lilly is a lovely girl. She is honest, and compassionate. She has a quick mind and is always ready to help others," Marguerite said.

When she beheld his skeptical look she almost laughed out loud; she knew that Ben Warner wasn't a fan of hers.

_But no matter what he might think about her, Marguerite, her words had been true. She understood. And she really liked Lilly. But she also had a responsibility towards her as her teacher, and she had come to see the girl's father to give voice to her opinion._

"I like Lilly. I really do. But she is stubborn. She is passionate and wild, and she doesn't stop anywhere. She never doubts for a moment that she is right, and she never listens to advice. I fear that one day her lack of self-control will get her into serious trouble. She needs to be more composed. I feel as her teacher – and as a role model for her – I must instil this into her."

 

Despite her righteous tone of voice Ben was touched by Miss Hargrove's little speech.

_So she knew how to read his little tomboy, and she saw the qualities of the girl. How had she just described her? 'Stubborn'? What a soft word for Lilly's 'no-surrender'-attitude. And 'passionate'... yeah, she was passionate, all right. Passionate, and wild, and quite the opposite to the calm and composed lady-teacher._

_What a thought! His little wild flower turning into a cultured plant like the woman in front of him. Couldn't be done. Of this he was sure._

"If you want Lilly to become like you are, you are in for a huge piece of work, Miss Hargrove."

It was impossible for Ben to keep the mischief out of his voice and eyes, and Marguerite Hargrove picked up on it.

"You are quite right about that," she agreed with him, "this task won't be easy."

Then she lowered her head so that he couldn't see her smile that kept tugging at the corners of her lips. _No. Such a task would not be easy at all..._

"No," Ben agreed, "it can't be." He chuckled quietly. "After all, she's my daughter."

That brought on a piercing look from the woman sitting in front of him.

"Mr. Warner," Marguerite told him straight to his face. "Dealing with Lilly – or you - is never easy."

He hadn't expected her to say something like that. She could see it in his face. Unable to keep a straight face, Marguerite let the smile that she had been trying to suppress show fully.

For a second they both looked at each other baffled... and then both burst into laughter. At first it shocked Marguerite, but then she realized how freeing it was that they could share a laugh together - without second thoughts or hidden agendas.

 

 

When they were done laughing Ben raised the coffee pot with an inquiring look in Marguerite Hargrove's direction, but she shook her head. _No. No more coffee. They were finished. She had done what she had come here to do and said what she had meant to say... albeit in a much better way than she could have planned._

She rose from the table and smoothed the creases on her dress.

"I'll get back into town now," she said.

"You staying in Indian Springs?" Ben inquired. When money got scarce school fees were among the first things that weren't paid. And why should a lady like Marguerite Hargrove stay when the town wasn't paying her?

Marguerite gave him a serious look.

"I don't have any money. I can't afford to go anywhere," she said seriously. Her honesty silenced Ben, and he looked at her so wistfully that she regretted having confessed that. She hadn't meant to let her guard down like that, and so she grasped the first piece of small talk that came to mind.

"Have you heard that the Millers want to leave town?"

Her casual remark made Ben perk up. "You sure?"

Miss Hargrove nodded. "Mrs. Miller told me so herself. They talked about going to Pennsylvania."

"So far?" Ben was astonished. "Why there?"

"The Millers are Germans. There is a German community there. I believe a relative of Mrs. Miller's lives there as well."

Ben nodded. _Yeah, he remembered now. Mrs. Miller had once told him that their son had married and gone there. The son he had gotten the medicine for once – mostly to make an impression on the townspeople, and make the Millers beholden to him. And so far it had worked; they had always supplied what he needed for his ranch. - They mustn't leave! With the grocery gone, there was no chance for him to get through the drought. His ranch wasn't self-sufficient like the neighbouring farms around him. He didn't have a vegetable garden, didn't keep pigs for food, and he couldn't kill cattle because he had none. All he had was horses._

"Now, what about Lilly and her behaviour?" Miss Hargrove asked when they emerged from the house.

Ben laughed.

"You could always threaten to spank her if she doesn't behave," he suggested.

Marguerite was shocked. "Mr. Warner, I can't do that!"

Ben looked at her seriously.

"Well, I sure as hell can't do it, either," he said softly.

A soft smile appeared on Marguerite Hargrove's face. _No. He couldn't. So she would have to find her own way of disciplining Lilly. – Oh well... she would manage._

Ben had seen her smile and interpreted it. He held out his hand to help her climb onto the wagon, and she took it. Before she hoisted herself up with his help, she gave his hand a squeeze. It was a squeeze of mutual understanding that needed no reinforcement by words or looks, and Ben understood it.

_She would take care of his girl. She would impress upon her what she thought fit, but she would do it with understanding and respect. The squeezing of his hand had been her way of telling him just that: she understood and respected not only Lilly, but him as well._

Marguerite tilted her head towards him – it was a gesture that sprung from her usual refined movements, a gesture devoid of artificiality. And for the first time Ben could see that what he had thought to be artificial was... just the way she was.

He smiled at her, an open smile that needed no caution.

"Miss Hargrove..."

"Mr. Warner..."

His finger touched the brim of his hat, and they shared a last smile before the wagon rumbled off the yard.

 

 

Lilly had watched Miss Hargrove's emergence from the house with mixed feelings.

_Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to box Arthur Burns. Her father had been real angry. She HATED it when her father got angry. It always felt as if her safe footing was giving way. She had to assuage him. But how?_

Further off Ben helped Miss Hargrove climb onto the wagon. Lilly saw Miss Hargrove tilt her head in that artificial-yet-elegant way of hers. And she could see her father smile and appreciate it. He touched the brim of his hat, and they smiled at each other.

A feeling of frustration welled up in Lilly.

_She would NEVER be able to behave like that, no matter how much her father might like it! But there had to be something to impress him, something to make him get back on HER side..._

And as Lilly patted her mare in an attempt to find some comfort, it came to her what this could be.

_From now on she would work at becoming the best horsewoman in the world. That was guaranteed to earn her father's love back!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Ben and Mary

Ben wasn't someone to let his problems accumulate by neglecting them, and so after Miss Hargrove had left, he saddled Ribbon and rode into town to look up the Millers.

"Miss Hargrove mentioned you wanted to leave town."

Mrs. Miller nodded. "Yes."

"Why?" he asked.

"We may have to. You know that Simmons left town?"

Ben shook his head.

"He owed us 38 dollars and 27 cents. Packed his bags at night, and just left. The whole family gone. Now, we're generous, Mr. Warner. You know that. People don't have to pay us immediately. But we have to get our money some time...”

"If more people just vanish and leave their debts behind, we can't go on," Mr. Miller joined in the conversation. "Already I can't pay for the delivery of sugar we received last week. - Now, we are town people, Mr. Warner. We don't have a garden full of vegetables and chicken and pigs like them farmers do. We can't feed ourselves on sugar and coffee. If we ain't got no money, we can't survive."

Ben nodded. _Yeah, it was understandable._

"It's not that we want to go," Mrs. Miller said now. "But our son Jonathan, you know, he married a girl from a German family in Kutztown, Pennsylvania. They got two small children now. Wouldn't be bad to be there, see them grow up."

 

Ben was still digesting Mrs. Miller's news when Alice Evans entered the grocery.

"Mrs. Evans! How nice to see you. What can I do for you?"

"We..." Alice Evans hesitated, then took out a piece of paper with a short list of articles. "We do need some more coffee. And other groceries..." She looked at the list and tried to decipher the handwriting of her son Mark. _No. It wasn't the handwriting. It was too dark in the store. The letters were blurry, and even holding the paper at arm's length didn't make it any better..._

"Here... let me help you," Mrs. Miller offered, taking the list. She had glasses ready for such a situation. Inwardly, she chuckled to herself. _It would seem that Alice Evans was vain after all. At least too vain to buy herself a pair of glasses._

Mrs. Miller started putting together coffee, salt, sugar, and wheat when Alice Evans suddenly spoke up.

"No. We don't need the sugar – just yet."

Ben was watching her closely and could see that it had cost her a lot to forego something as basic as sugar.

Alice Evans was well aware of his eyes on her and cast a glance at him. _This man always brought back memories of Dan. She had gotten used to this over the years. But with the drought getting worse and the first cattle being sold cheaply to reduce the herd, it was so much worse to be without Dan and to see the face of Ben Wade stare back at her. He looked just like he had all those years ago, when he had sat at her dinner table... how long ago was that? Twelve years?_

 

While Mrs. Miller was wrapping and storing Alice Evans' purchase in the basket she had brought with her, Ben's hand touched the brim of his hat as preliminary to starting a conversation.

"Your two sons, William and Mark – they all right?" he asked the woman in front of him.

"Yes, thank you."

She smiled politely, but he could see that her smile was strained.

_Mark was courting Susan White, and she was a nice enough girl. There was no trouble on that account. But her son William... lately he had begun to vanish and not return until late... very late. - Ah, well, that was private business and not for Ben Wade to know._

Ben took in every feature of her face as her thoughts occupied her.

_She had aged. Her green eyes looked haunted. The years since Dan's death had been hard on her._

Dan's image rose in front of him, and for a moment Ben was sitting at the campfire again, his hands cuffed. The posse had relaxed around the fire, and Ben had tried to suss out the men, tried to find their weak spots to be able to manipulate them. It had been easy to find Dan's weakness...

 

_“If I was lucky enough to have a wife like Alice, I'd treat her a whole lot better than you do, Dan. I'd feed her better, buy her pretty dresses... wouldn't make her work so hard. Yeah, I'll bet Alice was a real pretty girl before she married you.”_

Oh, yes, Ben remembered his words to Dan only too well as he looked into his wife's face all those years later.

_Her eyes were still beautiful. But their sparkle had gone. An ember inside of her seemed forever extinguished... Without Dan, Alice Evans had wilted like a flower without water._

~~~

 

The talk with Mrs. Miller – but even more so his encounter with Alice Evans – had left a bad taste in Ben's mouth. As he stepped into the street he cast a look at the sky.  There wasn't a single cloud visible as far as the eye could see. The scorching sun didn't improve his mood. _Best fetch Ribbon and ride home._

Mrs. Patterson and her daughter Sarah passed him by. Sarah was a friend of Lilly's, and so Ben touched the brim of his hat in greeting, taking in their pretty dresses and their impeccably-combed and plaited hair.

_Sarah was only two years older than Lilly, and yet she seemed like a miniature woman - whereas his little tomboy was a strange mix of boy and girl with a definite streak of wild monkey when the mood took her._

His thoughts made him smile. It added to the greeting he gave Mrs. Patterson, and she blushed. Casting her eyes down, she ushered her daughter Sarah on, and the two females passed him by, their skirts swishing around them, brushing his dusty trousers as they passed.

Ben turned to observe their backs.

_He didn't really want his girl to change into a copy of such a woman. He actually loved the fact that Lilly was not complaisant and obliging. - His Little Flower had had a hard time lately. And Miss Hargrove's visit had subdued her even more. Perhaps a little present would cheer her up._

Purposefully, Ben walked towards the little jewellery shop an Italian family had set up a year ago. Half an hour later he emerged again. Hidden in his vest pocket was a tiny paper wrapping a little chain and pendant. _This purchase was sure to please his little tomboy. And, who knew, perhaps it would even push her a bit towards dressing up and becoming a lady..._

Striding back towards the livery he was passing the saloon.

_Mary. Wouldn't be bad to look her up, spend a nice hour in her bed before going home..._

 

 

When Mary opened the door of her room she looked dishevelled and tired, but as soon as she recognized him she smiled widely.

"Ben – what are you doing here? It's so early."

"Gonna let me in, girl?"

She opened the door wide and yawned.

_He shouldn't have come. The girl had probably been up all night. She needed a few more hours of sleep. How important was his need compared to that?_

Mary tried to clean the floor of her clothes that were strewn about. Then she opened the curtains to let in some light, blinking at the bright sunlight and taking a deep breath to wake herself.

"That's the first time I've seen the sun in a week," she said matter-of-factly.

Ben was shocked to hear her words.

"You haven't seen the sun?" he asked.

"No," she shook her head. "When you work all night you sleep all day. And I've got no money to go out and buy me things, so I never go outta saloon no more..."

Her voice trailed off. She turned towards her bed, trying to make it more presentable to him, but Ben's mind was already made up.

"Go get dressed girl. We are going out."

"Going out?"

"Yes. Put on a nice dress. I'll pick you up in half an hour, all right?"

 

 

Half an hour later Ben hauled her behind him on his horse and rode out of town towards a little stream that the drought had dried up.

The flowers along the bank had already wilted and the grass had turned a dark shade of green and would soon dry up, too, but Mary didn't mind. It was the first time that anybody had taken her anywhere.

They sat in the shade of a tree overlooking the dried up river and the meadows.

"I thought you had come to... you know," Mary said somewhat timidly to Ben, who smiled at her.

_Yes, that had been his intention. But other things were just as important, weren't they? Like seeing the sun once in a while._

She didn't know what to do or say. Out here in the open, sitting on the grass, she was quite out of her usual environment – a fish out of water. Ben's eyes on her made her blush, and she fingered the hem of her frock.

It made him smile, but it also made him think.

_Did the girls never leave town? Was their whole life spent in the saloon with an occasional walk to the dressmaker's shop? Was that all there was for them? It had been so long since he had lived in the saloon as a boy, breathed in the stale air, been subjected to the raunchiness of its patrons, he had almost forgotten._

_Indian Springs wasn't such a bad place for the saloon girls,_ Ben mused. _Granted, in big cities like St. Louis, Dodge City or San Francisco they might make more money. But there they had to face a different clientele, too. Happened quite often that girls got killed in brawls and shoot-outs. Saloon life wasn't cosy._

Looking at Mary, Ben wondered what the girls in the saloon in Indian Springs talked about amongst each other. _What did they dream of? What were their aspirations?_

"Tell me about yourself, Mary," he said.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"What do you want to know, Ben?"

He smiled. _He wasn't her confessor._

"Whatever you want me to know, girl," he simply said.

That confused her. She was willing to honestly answer any question of his, but to just talk made her self-conscious. _What would he think of her?_ \- A scene from the saloon came to her mind.

"Do you know that Corey Simmons won more than one hundred dollars at poker? He was so happy he ended up with Lydia. And he stayed the whole night! He told Lydia he will come back and stay the night regularly from now on. That's nice of him, isn't it? So Lydia has to worry no more..."

Ben lowered his head to hide his smile. _Wasn't that typical of the girl? Even though she was a whore in the saloon, even though she had done the job for a year or so, she just never lost her innocence. Even if Simmons hadn't left in the dead of night, Lydia would never have seen another nickel of his winnings. But Mary didn't think along these lines. For her people were nice until they smacked her in the face._

And although Ben knew that he would never be like her – life hadn't granted him that innocence – in a far away corner of his mind he envied her this outlook on life.

"You said you never go out any more," he said.

"No point. All me money goes to Mr. Harris to pay for the room and board."

_That was strange. After all, he was a regular customer. And he couldn't be the only one, could he? Mary was a sweet girl._

"What would you buy if you had money?" he asked her.

She laughed.

"I don't know. Nice things."

"Like what?"

"I don't know."

His questions made her feel out of her depth, and she lowered her eyes to avoid his smile.

"How about something like that?" Ben asked, and his fingers found the little paper in his vest pocket. He presented it to her.

She gave a little shriek when she opened it.

"For me?"

He nodded. _Why not? Was nice to surprise her, and she seemed so happy with the gift... and he could always find something else for Lilly. Come to think of it, Lilly would probably prefer a new blanket for her beloved mare to a pendant, anyway._

Mary looked at him with a dreamy smile.

_Again he had come and looked her up – this time when he could be sure that nobody could spoil their time together. He loved her just like she loved him. Of this she was sure now. The chain in her hands - wasn't it proof enough that she was right? Naturally, he hadn't spoken of love, at least not yet. But that was because he was a man. Men didn't speak of love as women did. They used other ways. Like giving a chain to their sweetheart. All she, Mary, had to do was understand Ben's ways and be patient..._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Surviving a drought

After dropping Mary off, Ben picked up his mail from the telegraph office and went to the bank.

"Mr. Warner!"

Jeremiah Jones jumped up from behind his desk where he had been brooding over his plan to save the town and the figures it involved.

"Good of you to come. You haven't told me how much money _you_ will need over the coming weeks and months..."

Amusement shone in Ben's eyes as he shook the banker's hand. _Nobody, and certainly not Jeremiah Jones, would learn how he managed his money!_

"I've come to see Tommy," Ben said. "The boy rarely comes home any more. Always stays in town with the girl." Although mirth was thick in Ben's voice, the banker shook his head sorrowfully at the mention of Tommy's new passion.

"Yes. It's unfortunate. He spends all his money on her. He's with her even now."

Ben laughed at the solemn tone of Jones' voice.

"Nothing to worry about, Mr. Jones. That won't last."

"Are you sure about that, Mr. Warner? He has quite a crush on her."

Ben nodded.

"Violet knows her job well..." – a wide smirk appeared on his face at the words - "but she's not the kind of girl a man stays with."

Meanwhile, Jeremiah Jones' eyes had fallen on something Ben held in his hand.

"Oh, you read Emerson, too, I see," he beamed, pointing to the book Ben had just received by mail.

"Yes, I get my books from a bookshop in Chicago."

"'Barnes and Noble'," Jones exclaimed, and Ben nodded.

_Who would have thought it? A man like Ben Warner reading Ralph Waldo Emerson. But then, the man had always been different from other ranchers, or the town people, for that matter._

"Mr. Jones."

Ben tipped his hat in farewell and turned.

"Do you want me to give a message to Tommy, Mr. Warner?" Jones called after him.

"Nah..." Ben answered, "I'll find him."

And with a wink at Jones he added, "You never knew a girl worth paying for? It's money well spent."

Jones smiled back – a smile among men, a smile of mutual understanding. Ben left in search of Tommy.

_Oh, damn. He still didn't know how much money Ben Warner would need over the next months. Without it, he couldn't finish his calculations... or could he? After all, it was just ONE ranch among many. - But the 'Horseshoe Ranch' was the largest... Warner would surely need a credit, wouldn't he?_

Jeremiah Jones sighed. _Those calculations almost drove him around the bend. He needed a break!_

_Warner was right. There was this new girl – tall, slender, red-haired, and supremely elegant._

As he sat down behind his desk again Jeremiah Jones sighed contently. As soon as he had finished his work, he meant to buy a very special service...

 

~~~

 

"Reverend...?"

"Yes, my son?"

As Reverend McCarthy turned he looked into two very troubled eyes. 

"Can I talk to you...?"

The Reverend frowned. _How anguished the man sounded._

"What about, my son?"

"I _need_ to talk to you. I need..." The man's voice broke.

When he stepped closer the Reverend could see that the man's hands, which clutched and squeezed his hat, were bloody.

"Come in, son."

 

~~~

 

"Come on, Carter!" Joseph Baker yelled. "We're not done yet."

Stumbling over to a nearby tree Adam Carter sank down on the ground in its shade and refused to move. The three men had been digging constantly for a week now, working for ten, sometimes twelve hours a day. But the earth they hoisted up was still dry, the sun was still scorching, and the walls of their well kept tumbling down. It was frustrating!

"Let's have a break," Bunnywhistle suggested. From further off he spotted his wife rushing over. _It wasn't lunchtime yet, and she didn't carry a basket. Something must be up._

"Joshua, Mr. Hale wanted to see you."

"You haven't told him where we are, have you?"

"No, of course not."

Carter and Baker were listening closely. Baker approached the couple.

"Bunnywhistle, if our deal is off and Hale gets our water, I ain't gonna make it. I am broke as it is."

"A deal is a deal," Bunnywhistle retorted. "I keep my word, Baker. Don't you worry."

 

Mrs. Bunnywhistle was confused. _'Deal'? What was going on? The faces of the three men looked grim._

But she knew her husband. If he was in such a mood, there was no point asking. She would have to wait and see.

 

 

"And they looked so grim, you see. What will happen if we can't pay the debt we owe Mr. Hale? I am so scared, Reverend!"

Mrs. Bunnywhistle burst into tears. Reverend McCarthy heaved a soundless sigh. He didn't mind comforting when things were rough, but lately every little inconvenience made people run over and seek his advice. Mrs. Bunnywhistle saw him almost on a daily basis.

"My Joshua and our neighbours said something about a 'deal'," she continued, "but I'm sure it's not a godly one. Joshua has been silent about it all. Not a word to me."

"Now, now, Mrs. Bunnywhistle. Your husband is busy digging a well with Mr. Carter and Mr. Baker. If they succeed, it will be the salvation of the whole town."

Mrs. Bunnywhistle shook her head.

"I don't believe there will be enough water for everybody. And if there isn't, people will fight over the water and kill each other."

The word 'kill' triggered a painful memory in the Reverend. _She was right. People seemed capable of atrocities he had only ever read about in the Bible – and only as examples of misbehaviour from a truly godless people!_

The Reverend sighed and rose from his chair. Silently, he went to the charity box and took out 10 dollars. He handed the money to Mrs. Bunnywhistle.

"Here. Give this to Mr. Hale as a down payment. Tell your husband to carry on. And I will pray to our Lord to ease your burdens."

Mrs. Bunnywhistle scurried away, leaving a worried Reverend behind. _If people learned of this gift of money, they would soon be queuing outside the church._

 

~~~

 

"Not a chance, boss." John shook his head at Ben. He had just returned from Pah-Rimpi. "They smell it. They know we are desperate to sell the horses, so they won't offer no good money."

Ben nodded. _Yes_ _, it was to be expected. The people in Pah-Rimpi weren't dumb. Everywhere in Indian Springs farmers were selling their herds in an attempt to raise money and to reduce the need for water. People were the same everywhere: if you were strong, they were wary of you, but if you were in trouble, they swept in for the kill just like a pack of wolves would..._

"I tried everybody," John added but he only elicited a tired smile and a dismissive wave from Ben.

"That's how people are, John. Can't change them. Can't blame them, really."

 

That night Ben lay awake and worked out their options.

_From his former bank robbery times he still had money stashed away in five different hiding places, although one of them was too far to reach. The money hidden in the remaining four places amounted to approximately 17,000 or 18,000 dollars – provided the money was still there. But even if he found only half of what he had hidden years ago, it would still be more than enough to take Tommy and Lilly and start over._

_Maybe they should go to a big city. Tommy could learn the business of banking in a big city bank instead of the small and insignificant place that was Indian Springs. And Lilly would grow up to be a lady._

Ben smiled at the thought.

_He loved to see a dress on his girl – it only happened too seldom. Lilly hated 'girly behaviour' as she called it, and being an avid rider she always wore riding skirts. But there was no denying she looked twice as pretty in a dress with her curls all made up – at least to his eyes._

_So, what was it to be? Staying in Indian Springs and fighting for a life that was becoming increasingly hard? Or selling the horses cheaply, leaving and starting anew... somewhere... anywhere... a place where things were better and life was easier and more fun._

_Perhaps packing and leaving wasn't such a bad idea?_

 

~~~

 

"Our Father which art in Heaven..."

The Reverend's words were full of anguish. It was past midnight, and the candlelight barely illuminated the cross above his bed. But the illumination Reverend McCarthy was so desperately looking for would not come from a mere candle, anyway – if it was granted.

"... thy Kingdom come..." _Would it come? Or did it already? Were the things he had heard an indication of God's Kingdom coming all too soon...?_

"No!" His voice, full of pain, broke the silence and startled him. _Murder. How much deeper could a human soul fall into hell? And could he, Michael McCarthy, son and grandson of Irish immigrants, really absolve someone of such a crime?_

A strangled sob escaped the Reverend's mouth. In silent conversation with his God he lamented his task that was to give comfort, no matter how wretched – or corrupted – a soul was. His tears fell in a seemingly endless stream. _Would God hear him?_

~~~

 

When Tommy came back the next day from work at the bank he was bubbling with excitement: the banker and himself had worked out the plan to see the whole town through the drought.

"It's not so difficult, you know," he explained to Ben, who had been laughing in his face at the mere thought.

"All we need is 14,000 dollars. With it we can buy water from the surrounding areas over several months and hand out credits at low interest rates so the town can go on."

Again, Ben laughed.

"And where are you going to get 14,000 cash dollars?" he asked Tommy.

Tommy's face soured.

"Well, that's just the point. Mr. Jones has already cabled a few banks in Chicago and San Francisco and asked for a loan. But so far they either refused or they don't answer."

Ben chewed on his pencil, deeply in thought. He was in the process of drafting three important letters.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Tommy asked and moved to walk around the table and look into the letter Ben was writing. But Ben's look made him stop, and to save face he walked over to the water bucket instead to fetch himself a drink.

Ben was devising letters to his biggest customers - the three army forts he had been doing the most profitable business with. He had been working out his plan all night.

_If he could convince them to take all the horses off him – even at a substantially reduced price – together with the money he had stashed away, he would have more than enough to settle the three of them comfortably in a big city._

_He was fifty-three now,_ Ben mused. _God knew, he had never expected to live that long – not as an outlaw, anyway. But chances were that as a 'decent' man he had a good many years ahead of him – maybe even as much as two decades. By then both Tommy and Lilly would be set up in lives of their own. In a city like San Francisco this would be easy to accomplish. He could always find a good match for his little tomboy, and a suitable occupation for Tommy._

_But even if the forts took only half his horses off his hands, he still had options. He could either set the remaining horses free, fetch the hidden money and leave with Tommy and Lilly, anyway - or he could use the collected money, bit by bit, to get through the drought._

Relieved, he took a deep breath.

_The future was not as bleak as it seemed. Now, his next steps depended on how the forts would react to his offer._

Ben was satisfied. Although it would be at least a fortnight before the first answer could arrive, having the offers written off his chest, he had actively _done_ something to take control of their situation.

The feeling of having satisfied his need for a solution woke a hunger of a different kind. He decided to go into town tonight to see Mary.

"Where are you going?" Lilly asked when she saw her father don his gun belt.

"Town."

"But you were in town yesterday," she retorted. "And we don't need anything."

Ben opened his mouth, a sharp reprimand on his lips, but then he didn't speak. _He meant to relieve some of that tension that the drought brought and that he wasn't used to. Lilly was only eight. How could she possibly understand?_

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," was all he said.

Lilly followed him outside. _Perhaps she could convince him to stay, spend the evening with her. They hadn't talked in ages!_

But he was too fast. By the time she was stepping outside, he was already half-way across the yard. Lilly saw him speaking to John. _Perhaps there was some urgent ranch business, perhaps John could make him stay._

 

"Something on your mind, John?" Ben asked when he saw his foreman sitting on a corral fence, brooding.

John looked at him, trouble in his eyes.

"The knifer is no longer in jail."

"Why not?" Ben asked.

"Sheriff Davis says he's got no reason to keep him."

_Should he tell his boss that, maybe, there was a gang on its way to Indian Springs and this ranch? Ben Warner would make him leave the ranch if he knew. And he didn't want to leave._

Ben could see that John's forehead was creased with thought.

"Something else?" Ben probed.

John turned and faced his boss.

"You saved my life again," he said. "Nothing I have to give you back for it, you know."

Ben smirked and patted John's horse.

"Nah, don't worry about it, John. Didn't do it for you, you know, but for me."

The smirk on Ben's face asked for it.

"So what do you get out of it, then?" John asked provocatively, placing his hand on the horse's withers, facing his boss.

Ben's look was all innocence.

"Well, if I've got nobody to watch Lilly for me, how d'you expect I can ever get down to the saloon girls again?"

A smile of friendship, a friendship that echoed in John's face....

 

After Ben had left, John saw Lilly stand in the yard. _There was something wrong with her? But what?_

"Hi, Pumpkin, why you looking so sad?"

Lilly shot him an annoyed glance.

"Don't call me that!"

He gave her a smile. _She always got annoyed at that term of endearment._  

"What's up?"

"Daddy's gone into town again."

"So what?"

"There's no need to go into town. We don't need any groceries. He's just gone for fun!"

John grinned. _No doubt Ben Warner was looking up that girl he was so hot about. What was her name? Mae? Mary?_

He looked at Lilly. Her face wore a dark expression.

_It irked her. More than it should. Her father had always visited the saloon girls._

"Yer not jealous, are ya?"

Her eyes blazed fire at him, but she didn't answer.

"Lilly..." John didn't quite know how to phrase his thought. After all, she was still a girl. "A man needs this from time to time. I go to the saloon, too, you know."

"He's never here when I need him!"

Lilly knew that her complaint was unjustified. Her father spent most of his time on the ranch. But he was always busy, and she wasn't included in his activities any longer.

Before she had started school, she had always run after either Ben or John. But ever since she had had to spend her days away from the ranch, crammed between children in a stuffy school room, the only time she could really see and talk to her father was during dinner. In the beginning, he had asked about school and Lilly had told him every detail of her fights with Miss Hargrove, of how she had made a new friend, and of how dumb it was to 'become a lady'.

But her going to school was nothing new any more, and with the drought putting everybody under pressure, Ben was often tired. All he did was let her talk flow past him. Lilly's need to make herself understood, to re-connect with the person she loved the most, grew steadily.

"What you need him for, Pumpkin?" John asked.

"I want to train my mare so she answers to my voice – like Ribbon does with Daddy."

"Why don't you ask Matt? He's the best with horses."

"I don't want Matt!" Lilly shouted at him. "I want Daddy!"

Angrily, she ran off into the house. _She HAD to impress her father somehow to make him stay. But how?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Mattie's story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The character "Mattie Silk" and her story are taken from the movie "The Quick and the Dead".

Clank!

Clank!

Clank!

The metallic sound was unmistakable: the shovel had hit rock. It wasn't stones that could be dug up with earth and dust. No. They had reached a solid layer – a layer that even water couldn't penetrate.

This was it. The end of the road. They could dig no further.

Baker wiped the sweat off his face and looked at Carter. They both looked up the shaft they had been digging. Up there stood Bunnywhistle, bent over the rim, looking back at them.

 

"Now what?" Baker asked when they had climbed out and stood above ground again.

Nobody answered. They all knew it was the end. Only a drilling rig could help them – and none of them had the money to get one.

Baker nodded. _So this was it._

He hurled his shovel away and left without a word. Adam Carter and Joshua Bunnywhistle were looking at their feet. They didn't want to declare defeat – not yet. But they both knew that they couldn't dig through solid rock. No man could.

 

The next day Joseph Baker didn't show up. When Joshua Bunnywhistle and Adam Carter inquired after him, they learned that he had shot himself.

Mrs. Baker sold the ranch to Donald Burns – for half the amount that Burns had offered her husband only weeks before. She left for Carson City.

 

~~~

 

"What are you doing in here?" Ben asked when he found Lilly in the stable.

Matt was applying some salve to a stallion's wound, and Lilly was standing beside him, bent over to be able to watch closely...

Ben wasn't pleased.

_That stallion was the strongest and most dominant he had in his stable. He was given to sudden attacks to assert his dominance over men and fellow horses alike, and the wound on his leg made him even more unpredictable. His girl was standing way too close. One powerful kick from that stallion, and he would send her flying, crashing into the wall of the box, her head split, blood seeping out...!_

Ben closed his eyes and willed himself to take a deep breath. _What was he doing? He had to get a grip on himself. But then, he was always overly worried about his little girl._

"What about dinner, Lilly?" he asked, as much to get her away from the stallion as to get a grip on his whirling thoughts.

"I'll do a soup tonight, and we'll have bread and cold meat with it. Doesn't need much time."

Lilly and Matt left the box.

"See?" Matt said, "it's easy. Next time you can do it by yourself."

Lilly nodded.

Ben bristled. _Great. Have her be alone with that animal. What next? Letting her break in the young horses?_

"What's this?" Ben asked his daughter when Lilly grabbed a fork and proceeded to fill the stallion's box with more bedding. _That was work for a ranch hand, not for her._

"He needs to be more comfortable," Lilly answered without stopping.

"What about your homework?"

Lilly pulled a face. "I can do it later."

Ben took the fork away from her.

"Don't start getting snappy with me, young lady."

 

She looked at him; her father's eyes were dark... and hard.

"Dinner, Lilly... now!"

Angrily, Lilly walked into the house.

_He didn't understand. But she would make him pay attention! She would continue to learn from Matt, and she would also train her mare. And one day her father would have to acknowledge that there was no better horsewoman than her!_

 

 

Tommy was shovelling another forkful of food into his mouth. He was eating his dinner in record time.

"What's the matter with you?" Ben asked.

"Got to get into town," Tommy mumbled while chewing. "Got a date."

He threw his fork down, put on his hat and jacket and ran out of the house. Ben only smirked. Within a few weeks Tommy had become a regular in the saloon. Violet must be quite happy with the steady income...

Lilly had picked up on Ben's smile.

"You're not going, too, are you?" she asked provocatively.

It was the wrong question to ask. Ben was a man not to be mastered by anybody – especially not his wilful daughter. Without giving Lilly a chance to voice all her little ideas about training her mare, he left the house to fetch Ribbon.

An hour later he was in the saloon.

 

Ben looked around. Violet had just vanished with Tommy, Sandy sat on William Evans' knee, and Lydia was entertaining Donald Burns... but Mary was nowhere to be seen.

Mattie approached him.

"Mary has a customer upstairs," she said. Ben acknowledged her information with a nod.

Harris placed a whisky in front of him. Ben turned to look at his favourite table in the corner; it was free. He inclined his head towards it and picked up his whisky.

"Come, girl," he said to Mattie, "join me."

 

"Tell me about Redemption, about what happened to Herod," Ben said when they were seated.

His voice was soft, cautious. Mattie had heard men talk like this before. _He had an agenda. But what might it be? Some old reckoning between them that was still unpaid? And how had a peaceful rancher from Nevada made the acquaintance of a man like John Herod?_

"You knew him?" Mattie asked guardedly.

Ben nodded.

"How?"

"Ran into him once when he still had his gang."

 

_That had been a tricky situation. Small saloon in a no-name town. Both their gangs high on whisky, bound to do something stupid on the drop of a hat... Two men had started a quarrel, bellowing at each other, close to losing it and drawing their guns._

_Herod had sat in his chair sipping his beer, studying the two men as if their behaviour – sprung from their whisky-soaked brains – was special... as if their quarrel would yield the meaning of life to him._

_Ben had interfered by finishing his drink and giving a whistle to his gang, a whistle that his men didn't dare ignore. Angrily, they had left the saloon, the quarrel broken up. At the swinging doors Ben had cast a look back at John Herod; a derogative smile had graced the man's face. At that moment Ben understood that Herod thought him weak because he had forestalled what otherwise would have become a duel to the death – and a distraction and entertainment for the onlookers._

Mattie had observed Ben's eyes go hard at the memory.

 _He certainly bore no love for John Herod. Well, probably nobody ever had,_ she mused.

"There was a shooting contest," she told Ben. "It started with 16 men. And in the end there was supposed to be only one left."

"Herod."

Mattie shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm sure that's what he wanted. But he got shot in the end. By a woman," she added.

At that Ben threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"By a woman?"

She nodded. He laughed again, this time so hard the tears were streaming down his cheeks. Mattie couldn't help herself; she simply had to smile at the sight.

"Way he treated women, guess that's only fair," Ben said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Opposite him, Mattie was staring in front of herself.

_The girl was lost in thought. The fact that a woman had finished off that vicious snake didn't console her._

"What's he done to you?" Ben asked softly.

Mattie beheld his eyes on her, serious, understanding. _How come a mere rancher understood so well? Or were people the same everywhere? If so, was there a 'Herod' in this town, too?_

That last thought scared her. When she had left Redemption, she had hoped to be able to leave her fears behind.

Ben had signalled the barkeeper that he wanted another whisky. Harris brought a bottle and a second glass for Mattie. Ben poured her a large one and she chugged it down. The whisky in her stomach warmed her, but it couldn't dull the pain. Looking at the empty glass in her hand she said softly, "Herod killed my husband, Fee."

Ben didn't speak. Measuredly, he poured more whisky for both of them. _Let her find her voice. She needed to get this off her chest, but not with him putting any pressure on her. If she wanted to, she would speak._

And Mattie did.

"He was only 19. Too young to die."

She turned the glass in her hand, but didn't touch the whisky. Lost in the past, her eyes brimming with tears, she relived some of the most painful moments of her life.

"He was the only man who treated me like a human being and not like a whore..."

She fell silent.

"He didn't want to take you away from there, start anew somewhere else?" Ben asked. This time it was him whose voice was cautious. He didn't mean to tread into dangerous territory.

_There were all kinds of reasons why a man wouldn't want to take a woman with him. In his experience, for most men women just weren't important enough to base big decisions on. If something came up, a choice to be made, a life to be changed... women mostly lost out._

She looked at him and he could see that her eyes were two large, open wounds, still bleeding.

"He didn't want to leave. Fee was Herod's son."

 

 

At that moment Mary came down the stairs, her customer on her arm.

Mattie watched Ben Warner's eyes. They were serious. The frown that had briefly shown when he had seen the man beside Mary was gone.

Mary and her escort, a hand from a neighbouring ranch, stopped at the bar and ordered drinks.

Ben's gaze returned to Mattie – and he beheld her look at him: cautious, guarded. He smiled a smile of reassurance.

_No. He wasn't gonna make a scene. He was well aware of the fact that he didn't own Mary. He had dismissed the idea of ever 'owning' a woman all to himself years ago when he had let go of the idea of courting the town's teacher._

_He was an outlaw. And although the town didn't know that, it seemed to him there was a certain... 'quality' to decent men that he just didn't have. Leastways, with the exception of this unhappy incident with the schoolteacher, no decent woman had ever shown any interest in him. Oh well... after all those years of living rough with his gangs he was far more comfortable with saloon girls, anyway. They knew the score, and he could just be himself with them._

Mattie had watched him, unaware of his thoughts. There was a calm strength about the man that spoke to her. Ben wasn't one of those men who flaunted their money or their status in order to gain attention. And he didn't need to. 

 

Ben caught Mattie's look at him. _Pretty girl, although way too thin for his taste._

"Tell me about yourself," he now said to Mattie and a soft smile appeared on his face.

Mattie was confused. Ever since she had arrived in Indian Springs Ben Warner had only slept with Mary. And Mary was crazy about him. The way she talked about him, his little gestures, his words and smile... Mattie had more than once blushed at Mary's frankness and her willingness to share intimate details of her encounters with Ben Warner. _And now he wanted her, Mattie, to talk to him – instead of claiming Mary._

Mattie turned her head and watched Mary for a moment. When she turned back to Ben Warner, she saw his amused smile on her.

"What are you thinking about, girl?" he asked.

Mattie took a deep breath.

"Mary really likes you..." she started hesitatingly.

"Does she?" Ben asked, serious all of a sudden. _The way she giggled with the young man at the bar, who was much closer to her in age than he, Ben, was told its own story..._

"Yes." Mattie was convinced of it. "She's just..." _What to say?_

"Mary is... somehow she's like a child. Doesn't know men. Doesn't know people, really. She believes everything they say. And she thinks they are all nice. No matter what happens around her, she thinks the world is a good place. She will still think it after it's kicked her in the bum."

Ben laughed.

"Yes. That's true."

 _In a few words the girl opposite him had described Mary expertly. She must be a good observer of people,_ Ben thought. But not only that.

"You like her, don't you?" he asked Mattie.

Mattie nodded. "She was the only one who made me welcome."

 

"Ben!"

They were both woken out of their musings by Mary's enthusiastic call. She had finally spotted Ben sitting at the corner table.

Leaving her customer behind without as much as a smile or a good-bye, Mary came over to Ben and Mattie.

With a suddenly shy smile Mattie rose and left, drawing Ben's gaze as she moved tall and upright between the tables. She was soon shrouded in the dust and smoke that were always present in the saloon at that time of the hour, but still Ben couldn't drop his gaze. The haze made her appear unreal, an apparition, a spectre... the fairy queen that left and disappeared in a cloud of fog...

"Ben...?"

 

Ben looked up and saw Mary. Her wild curls were crushed and some of her make-up was smeared. She must have forgotten to look in the mirror before returning downstairs...

Mary reached out her hand and smiled eagerly at him. He took her hand and meant to kiss it, but she wouldn't permit it. Instead she tugged at him to get up from his chair.

Much more eager than Ben in his still wistful mood, she preceded him on the stairs and was quick to close the door after him when he had entered her room.

 

"What are you thinking, Ben?" Mary asked.

His hand was caressing over her thigh and hip, his eyes were glued to the ceiling, there was a smile on his lips.

_He must be thinking about their love - or he wouldn't be smiling and touching her like this. Perhaps today he would say the words to her, those three words that men so rarely used, in spite of all that women did to elicit them._

Ben looked at her, an amused glint in his eye.

"Why do you want to know what I'm thinking, girl?"

His question took the wind right out of her sails. _She couldn't tell him, could she? It was for him to say. But she could DO something..._

Smiling, she rolled on top of him and started to kiss his shoulder, neck, and throat...

The smile on Ben's face widened as his hands grasped her. _Ever since he had given her the little pendant, her kisses had been extra sweet. She really was making too much of his present..._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Helping William Evans

"'We are often made to feel that there is another youth and age than that which is measured from the year of our natural birth. Some thoughts always find us young'..."

Sighing, Jeremiah Jones stopped reading. He couldn't concentrate.

For days farmers and merchants  had been stepping into his bank, demanding to know when they would receive the loans they so desperately needed, and Jeremiah Jones was slowly running out of excuses.

One by one the banks he had cabled had refused to lend money to Indian Springs. They couldn't be sure of their profits, and the guarantees offered were simply not good enough.

Not even the land deeds were attractive to those banks - and Jeremiah Jones had been sure that they, at least, would be accepted.  But those banks that were big enough to give out credits of that order were all located hundreds of miles away from the actual land. And if the town couldn't pay back, and the land fell into their possession, then they weren't close enough to profit from it. 

As for the 'lesser' guarantees like jewellery or tools... the banks simply laughed at them.

 

Jones closed the book and buried his face in his hands. _What to do?_

 

~~~

 

When the telegram arrived from Fort Gibson Ben read it with a feeling of triumph. The colonel in charge was willing to take 50 horses off him for half the price. However, he didn't accept any foals or untrained yearlings, the horses had to be old enough to be trained as army horses right away.

Immediately, Ben put together a herd of 50 horses: stallions, working horses, some mares who didn't suckle foals, and even a few youngsters who, although not fully trained, could be mounted and used as riding horses. Then he went to see his men.

"I need four volunteers to deliver the horses to Fort Gibson," he started.

The men all stayed silent. They felt something was going on. But nobody wanted to be the first to open their mouth and ask. Ben looked at them. _Matt? Jason? Richard? Who would be the most reliable to lead the group?_

Matt and Richard both stood up to indicate they would volunteer. Ben nodded at them.

"What's up, boss?" Richard asked Ben.

_They were reliable ranch hands. It was only fair to tell them._

"Looks like I'm getting rid of all the horses and leaving before long," he said. "If you don't want to return from the job, you tell me now, and you can have your wages and be off."

A murmuring started among the men.

"Herd of fifty... I need two more."

Matt sat down.

"I don't want to go nowhere," he said. Some hands nodded at his words but others stepped forward.

 

In the end there were five men who would drive the horses to Fort Gibson and wouldn't return. Richard would be the one to telegraph once the horses had been delivered, and the colonel would send the money by coach as he usually did. All in all it would perhaps take four weeks until the payment would reach him. Ben figured he could hold out that long. Any later payments he would personally collect from the army once he and the children had settled in another city. Now his biggest task was to prepare Tommy and Lilly...

 

"And then she started her sermon about lady-like behaviour again. It's the only thing she ever talks about. A ranch woman needs to learn all kinds of things, not just how to stitch. Daddy, she is soooo stupid. I wish I didn't have to go back to that school!"

"So you don't like it at school?" Ben asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"No," Lilly confirmed.

He nodded understanding.

"What would you say if we go some place?"

"What place?"

"Don't know," he evaded, "some city where life's different. Where Tommy can learn the banking business in a big bank. Where we can find a different school for you..."

"You mean forever?" Lilly's eyes opened wide. "Leaving and not coming back?"

Ben nodded.

"But what about the horses? What about Matt and Jason and the others? What about John?"

"They will soon leave, anyway," Ben said seriously. "A few more months and nobody can hold out any longer. "If I can't pay them, they will go."

There were tears in Lilly's eyes.

"And my mare? Do we take her with us?"

Ben shrugged his shoulders. He didn't know yet. _Would be hard to part with Ribbon. And for Lilly to part with her mare, too. Maybe they could just take those two with them, find a place where they could keep them..._

 

~~~

 

"Your boyfriend's coming," Harris said saucily to Violet.

Violet turned, saw Tommy and groaned. _Oh no. Not again._

Harris pointed a finger at her.

"You better service him."

"Give me a break, Simon. I was up all night. I'm still tired. Isn't a girl allowed some time on her own?"

"You know you owe me three months' pay already," he reminded her. "Time you paid up."

"You get plenty of money for the booze." Violet got angry. "The men all come to drink, but none of them want to pay us girls any more. I barely have money to feed myself. How am I gonna make enough money to pay you for this lousy room?"

Before she could get worked up too much, Tommy approached.

"You don't know how to make enough money?" Harris sent her a clear look. "Well, it's obvious, isn't it?"

"Hi there," Tommy greeted her. "You coming?" And he meant to turn and walk up the steps.

"I'm not coming!" Violet said angrily. "I am still tired. You can come tonight."

"Tonight I ain't got time," Tommy said. "I want you now."

"But I ain't in the mood."

"Mood?" he asked. "I pay you. What mood do you have to get into?"

Violet stared at him incredulously, and even Harris blinked for a moment. Until now he had always believed that Tommy had a young man's crush on Violet, that he believed to be someone special for her.

Tommy presented a five dollar note to her face.

"I've only got the lunch break. Need to get back to the bank. It's either your money, Violet, or I'll knock on someone else's door."

Violet looked at Harris, but he suddenly concentrated on polishing the glass he held.

"I'd like a whisky when I'm back," Violet said haughtily to save some face. And with a sneer she didn't dare direct towards Tommy she added, "I won't be long."

Then she gathered her dress and preceded Tommy on the steps.

 

~~~

 

A few days later William Evans visited Ben. He was carrying surprising news: his brother Mark was to marry Susan White. Naturally, with everybody so hard up there wouldn't be a big invitation, William explained. Ben could see that he was embarrassed and couldn't hide a smile. He and William were too honest with each other for that.

"He doesn't want to pay for a big feast, does he?" Ben asked William straightforwardly, and William reluctantly nodded.

"It's a shame. Nobody has money to spare at the moment," William said, "but hearing from your own brother that his getting married isn't worth celebrating is..." His voice died away. _Well, what could he say?_

Ben filled up William's glass. Susan White, Mark's bride, was the only daughter of a farmer's family next to the Evans' ranch. Ben didn't know the family well, but the girl seemed very timid and subdued. _Why would a young man like Mark Evans want such a bride?_

William stood, contemplating the contents of his glass.

"Something else?" Ben asked him.

"I haven't got the money for you yet," William answered immediately.

Ben laughed.

"Ah, boy... I know that. At the moment nobody can afford to pay any debts. Come on, what is it?"

William looked at him with a shy smile.

"I have a girl..."

Ben raised his eyebrow.

"Never happened to a man before, I guess," he said.

They both burst into laughter, a laughter that made William remember who he was talking to. There was no need to be bashful or pious with Ben Wade! Suddenly amused at his own shyness William shook his head.

"Nah... that's not the point."

"And the point is?"

"It's a girl from the saloon." William looked straight into Ben's eyes.

Ben suddenly understood. _Mary! It had to be her! Why else would the boy be reluctant to tell him? Mary hadn't mentioned anything to him – but then she wouldn't. Wasn't her style. So the boy had come to tell him to leave his girl alone._

_A pity. Mary was real sweet. And he was used to her and her ways. – Ah, well... better find another one, then._

Patiently, Ben waited what William had to say.

"You know, my mother... she doesn't approve of the saloon girls. She thinks they are girls of 'loose morals'... When she hears that I want to marry one of them, she'll go crazy, and I have to listen to a three-hour sermon straight from the Bible about 'decent women' and all that."

Ben smiled.

"Why not quote back to her Romans 3:23: 'For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.' - And you could also remind her '... above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness.' – Colossians 3:14."

William was stunned. He had forgotten how easily Ben Wade quoted the Bible. He shrugged.

"Wish I knew the Bible like you do. Could beat her with her own weapon, then." William looked at Ben intensely.

"I _love_ that girl," he said with passion.

Ben nodded encouragement. _Well... better tell me straight to stay away, then, boy,_ he thought, _because if you won't do it like a man then I'm not going to stay away._ But he didn't say anything, he was waiting patiently.

"Could you..." William started.

Ben decided to make it easy for him. With a slight smile he nodded encouragement to the young man.

"Go ahead, boy, ask me," he said. "I'll agree, don't you worry."

William smiled.

"Will you go visit my mother and speak for the girl?"

Ben raised his eyebrows.

"That all?" he inquired.

William nodded.

"She'll listen to you, I know it. And," he added this reluctantly, a boyish grin on his handsome face, "in a town as pious as this one you're the only one to speak for us, anyway."

William left, and Ben thought about the irony of an outlaw visiting a decent Christian woman in order to speak in favour of a whore. _Well, he better not think on it too long,_ he decided. _Best mellow her while she was still preparing for her youngest son's wedding._

 

~~~

 

To say that Alice Evans was surprised to see Ben at her doorstep was an understatement.

"Neither William nor Mark are here at the moment," she said, somewhat reluctant to let him in.

"I know. I've come to speak with you," Ben answered.

It confused her. _What would Ben Wade want with her? No... Ben 'Warner'. It wasn't easy to remember, not while looking into the man's eyes and seeing the corners of his lips slightly pulled up._

She asked him in.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Warner?" Alice Evans asked when Ben had sat down at the table, and she had poured him a coffee.

"I've come to speak about the girl your son William wants to marry."

He saw how her whole face shut down. Raising her chin she stood up and – with careful movements – proceeded to prepare a plate with small cakes to place before her guest.

"William says you don't want the girl in your house."

"No." A calm and dignified look accompanied that word. It sounded final.

"Because she is from the saloon?" Ben asked. Her silence confirmed it.

He lowered his voice giving it that purring timbre.

"You once had an _outlaw_ sitting at your dinner table."

_That was long ago. Dan had still been alive._

Alice Evans blinked back tears.

"When you met me here again you accepted me. Why is it so hard for you to accept this girl? She'll make William a good wife, a better one than that shy little mouse your son Mark is going to marry."

Alice Evans didn't answer Ben. She poured them both more coffee. Ben took another sip, then he looked at her, pondering his words before he spoke.

"The girls in the saloon are scared of women like you. Do you know that?"

Her astonished look made him shake his head. _She was such a clever woman, and yet this obvious thing seemed to escape her._

"They know that you Christian women don't speak well of the saloon girls. You scorn them. Though why that is escapes me. Most of them just try to survive and get by. Think about it.  You had Dan to provide for you. And after Dan's death there was Butterfield's money. Now you have this ranch and your two grown-up sons supporting you. But what if you hadn't had the money? And William and Mark too young to help you feed them. What would you have done? What _could_ you have done...?"

He didn't elaborate. Silent minutes ticked by until Alice Evans finally took a deep breath. Then she nodded – more to herself than in acknowledgement to what he had said. But it was enough for him. He could see that his words had fallen on fertile ground. _She understood now. She would come around. All she needed was some time._

And all he needed to do was grab his hat and leave.

 

~~~

 

"Dad... could you give me another twenty dollars?"

"Not this week, Tommy. I've just paid the hands, and I've had to pay the farrier and the tack maker. Don't have any cash left."

His annoyed gesture told Ben that Tommy wasn't happy about his refusal.

"What's up? You don't have enough money for your girl? She bleeding you dry, is she?" he asked smugly.

Tommy's flushed and embarrassed face made Ben laugh out loud.

"Can't you ask Jones?" he suggested. "I'm sure he understands why you need an advance on your wage."

His father's openly smug remark made Tommy defensive.

"Already asked him. He said no. Guess I'll have to rob him," he stated nonchalantly and with a slight swagger.

Like a flash of lightning Ben stepped up and grabbed Tommy by his collar, easily lifting the seventeen-year-old off his feet. Tommy's eyes widened in fear. Never in all his years on the ranch had Ben attacked or threatened him in any way!

He remained completely still in Ben's grip, unable to do more than stare at him. After what seemed like an eternity Tommy saw Ben take a deep breath and he felt him loosen his grip.

Ben himself was shocked at his reaction, which had been like a reflex. _What the hell was the matter with him? He had almost hit Tommy. That boy wasn't capable of robbing a bank. Wasn't smart enough for it. His cocky remark had only been a joke. Why should he bother about it?_

Softly, Ben removed his hands, and quickly Tommy sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, his knees were giving way.

Ben turned away, struggling with the contradicting emotions running through him. _What was the matter?_

_He had known Jeremiah Jones ever since he had bought his ranch and bred the first horses. Whenever he had had business with the bank, Jones had always treated him fair – the mere thought of him being robbed was as if someone tried to take away from Ben himself, as if someone was invading a territory that was to remain safe..._

At that moment he was called outside by one of the hands, and Ben was glad to be able to get out and put some distance between himself and his son...

 

~~~

 

"Where are you going?" Mark asked his brother when William reached for his hat and holster.

"I'm off," was all William said. He exchanged a short glance with his mother and left.

Mark sent his mother an angry look, but Alice Evans only smiled. _Her son was in love. Everything would be all right._ She had had a long talk with William the evening before, and he had confided in her and spoken about his love. Alice Evans was glad that she and William were close again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. A friend until the end

"What are you thinking about, Ben?"

Mary's finger tenderly traced the worry lines on his forehead.

Ben had no intention discussing his troubles with her. When he was with Mary, he tried to leave the ranch business and his worries behind. Mary and his ranch... they were two different worlds – worlds that wouldn't merge.

"Where's Mattie?" he asked to distract her.

"Don't you know that she is gone?" Mary asked him.

"Gone? Where to?"

"Nobody knows. She said she didn't want to starve here. We don't get no more customers, Ben. All the men ever do is drink booze, but they don't got no money for us girls," Mary explained.

 _It was right,_ Ben thought, _but there was nothing he could do about it. Oh well... once William was getting Mary out of the cat-house, life would be better for her._

He kissed Mary's forehead and rolled out of bed.

"You going already?" she pouted.

"John is waiting for me downstairs," Ben said. "We got to ride over to Pah-Rimpi, buy water for the ranch."

She knelt up on the bed and reached out for him, trying to entice him to stay a bit longer, but Ben shook his head decisively.  Ranch matters came first. The times when he would take risks for a bit of nookie were long since over.

 

 

When Ben was walking down the stairs he saw his foreman standing at the bar. A stranger had just entered the saloon and was walking up to John.

Ever the observer rather than the man rushing into action, Ben stopped on the stairs to watch the encounter.

"Well, well... if it isn't John Smith..."

John turned and beheld a man he had never wanted to see again in his life. Ben saw his foreman's face change. In all the time he had known John he had never shown fear. But there it was in his eyes.

Ben didn't have time to mull over the stranger's relationship with his foreman, because without the slightest warning the man drew his gun and shot John. Most patrons were stunned, some of the girls screamed. Their scream was still in the air when the second shot came. The attacker turned and saw Ben, pistol in hand. It had been like a reflex; the shot at John had made Ben Wade emerge from behind the mask of Ben Warner.

Blood oozed from the man's chest, but Ben's shot had not been fatal. The man raised his gun towards Ben but at that moment Ben’s second bullet went through the man's forehead and finished him off.

John fell on his back and fought for air. The bullet had penetrated his lung. Quickly, Ben covered the distance between himself and his foreman.

"Run for the doctor," Ben said to a nearby patron.

"He's dead," the man said with a nod to the killer.

"Not for him, you idiot, for John!" Ben yelled, and the man ran off.

Ben knelt down beside John.

"Tryin' to s...s...save my life again, boss?" John muttered between gasps.

"Looks like this time I mightn't been good enough, John," Ben answered.

"...'s okay. Been good years with you, boss," John managed to say.

He started coughing and fighting for breath. Ben grasped his hand so John would have something to hold onto. There was nothing else anyone could do.

"Y'know first time I saw you?" John whispered to Ben. Ben nodded. He remembered the scene like it had happened only yesterday.

 

_A few weeks after he had acquired his ranch and bought horses Ben had stopped in the saloon for a beer. Everybody in town knew that he needed ranch hands._

_A tall, dark-haired man in his mid-thirties had approached him and asked him to take him on as ranch hand. Ben hadn't been too impressed._

_"Why don't you work cattle? Enough ranchers in Nevada who need a hand. And you'll get more money from them ranchers."_

_"Nah... want to work for you."_

_"Why?"_

_"I don't work for no sissy ranchers!"_

_The line was delivered with so much heart in it, Ben perked up. It felt genuine. Whoever this man was, he knew what he wanted. Ben smiled – a smile that was echoed in the man's eyes. They agreed on a trial period, but it hadn't taken John long to convince Ben of his worth. Somehow they had clicked from that very first time they had laid eyes upon each other..._

 

"Yeah... you came to see me here in the saloon, wanted to work for me," Ben said, answering John's question.

"Nah, wasn't the first time," John whispered. His words were getting fainter, and Ben had to bent over to hear him.

Ben kept silent. John laboured to catch his breath.

"Remember Contention?" he then whispered. "Was there. Saw them... br... bring you int... into town, hands cuffed. Saw you get... on that train. Never seen a man... like you before. Simply _had_ to work for you..."

A gurgling followed his words. John had taken his last breath. In a reflex action, Ben grasped John's collar and lifted up his head as if he could save him with this gesture. But it was already too late. John's eyes had glazed over. He was dead.

_John. In all the years of their acquaintance John had never let on that he had known his true identity._

Movement beside him woke Ben out of his reverie. The doctor had arrived – too late to do anything for his friend. Ben's eyes fell on the dead killer. And he regretted having killed him so quickly.

 

~~~

 

John's death had a profound effect on the ranch. The ranch hands, a rambunctious lot that was given to drinking and fighting but was not really vicious, changed. Gone was the roaring laughter when Matt had gotten the better of someone, and instead more and more brawls came about, brawls that turned into serious fighting.

In the beginning, Ben thought that the threat of the drought was wearing on them, but then he realized that they didn't mind the drought as long as he paid them their wages, and as long as they weren't personally affected by it. No. It had been John who had kept them from fighting seriously. And it had been John who had chased them to work and made sure that the day's job was done – and done well!

 

 

Lilly was desperate. John had been a second father to her, and whenever she passed the men's quarters she burst into tears and was inconsolable.

 

It was the very first time Lilly had lost someone close to her, and her bewilderment cut deeply into Ben's heart. He simply couldn't find the right words to explain to her that death was part of life. 

While Lilly pondered death for the first time in her life, Ben was more occupied with the notion of friendship. _Why had John never mentioned that he knew about Ben's true identity? And who was his killer? Would there be more bloodshed? A gang lying in wait somewhere, waiting to avenge the man he had shot? Were they safe staying on the ranch?_

Ben buried his face in his hands. _John was dead.  He couldn't ask him. John... the only true friend he had ever had – and hadn't even known it! Too late now to say thank you for his silence, too late to give anything back. All he could do was remember him..._

 

~~~

 

"You know, you could look happier seeing me," Tommy said.

"Why should I look happy?" Violet asked sarcastically.

"After all, I'm paying you, aren't I?"

"Three dollars isn't much, you know."

"Well, you're not doing anything for it. The way I see it, I'm doing all the work," he said.

 _The way I see it, you're having all the fun,_ were her thoughts, but she would never voice them aloud. After all, her livelihood depended on the men coming back, and part of the trick of her trade lay in her making them actually believe she enjoyed their touch.

She sighed inwardly. _She had no choice. She simply couldn't afford losing Tommy. She couldn't afford losing her cash-cow._

 

~~~

 

"It's no good," Ben said to Matt. "We need more water – or I have to shoot the horses before I have a chance to sell them."

Matt's eyes roamed over the yearlings. They were standing listlessly in the sun and hung their heads. Normally full of energy, playing, running and teasing each other, they barely moved any more. And if they did, they were stalking, their movements stiff and lethargic.

The grass had dried out completely. The hay stored for winter was being fed to the mares who still suckled their foals, but it wouldn't last forever.

"Most of the farmers drive to Pah-Rimpi to buy water," Matt remarked cautiously.

Ben nodded. He knew this. He also knew the exorbitant prices they had to pay. He sighed. _Couldn't be helped. He had to pay their prices or the horses would die._

"First thing tomorrow morning. It'll take us the whole day to get there and back here again with a wagon full of water barrels."

Matt cleared his throat but didn't talk. His cautious look was enough to make Ben suspicious.

"Something on your mind?" he asked.

"We should take a few hands with us, boss. Could be handy to have some guns around if someone thinks about holding us up."

His boss' eyes turned cold – then wistful – then determined.

"All right, Matt. Every man we can spare. You tell 'em."

 

"That's the one," Matt said, pointing to a door that said 'Joshua Weisman, merchant'. They had asked around who might sell them enough water for a decent price and had been referred to Weisman. _Ask Weisman,_ people had said. _As long as you got money, he finds you anything you need._

When Ben moved to enter, Matt held him back. "Let me do the talking," he said.

Ben looked amused, but then he nodded. He didn't mind swapping roles and playing the ranch hand – that way he would be able to observe the man closely. Ben reached into his jacket and meant to hand over his wallet to Matt but he shook his head.

"No. It looks too posh. You keep it. Just give me 75 dollars."

Ben laughed. "75 dollars ain't enough, Matt. That man's not dumb." He tilted his head towards the door. "He finds out who we are we have to pay three times as much."

"Just let me handle it," Matt repeated. Ben nodded assent and they went in.

 

An hour later they emerged again. Matt had gotten them a wagon load of water for exactly 75 dollars. It had been an experience Ben wouldn't forget for a long time.

"Never took you for a showman and a storyteller," Ben said when they enjoyed a beer in the saloon.

_It had really been a sight: Matt begging, pleading... almost crying because – as he had convincingly claimed - they had only been given 75 dollars by their boss and would surely be shot dead if they couldn’t bring home the water they needed._

Ben chuckled into his beer at the memory. He cast a look at his ranch hand, who proudly grinned at him. Ben answered his grin with a sly smirk.

"‘And they will deceive every one his neighbour, and will not speak the truth: they have taught their tongue to speak lies’," he quoted.

"Huh...?"

Ben laughed at Matt's confusion. Matt wasn't one to know the Bible. "Nothing, Matt. It's nothing."

Matt finished his beer. "I better find our hands." Most of them had disappeared with a saloon girl.

Ben shook his head no. "Let them have their fun. I'll be over at the store. Just an hour, Matt, no more. Then we go on home."

 

 

Ben walked along the main street of Pah-Rimpi. _Now, that was a place as it should be,_ he thought.

People were bustling about, fully-loaded wagons drove along, a few cowboys left the saloon and mounted their horses, and respectable matrons in their prim and proper dresses crossed the street and frequented the various shops. Pah-Rimpi didn't have the water shortage Indian Springs was suffering from. _Amazing what a distance of thirty miles and easy access to Artesian springs could do._

He was headed for a shop where he meant to find a present for Lilly when a slender figure crossed his path.

"Mattie...!"

She turned and her sudden smile lit up her pale face. "Ben..."

Quickly, she walked over.

When she stood in front of him, Ben was startled. He was used to her being slim, but she looked even thinner than he remembered her. He realized: _she was starving!_ Swiftly, he covered up his shock and smiled.

"So _that's_ where you went to. How ya doin' here, Mattie-girl?"

 _'Mattie-girl'. Spoken in this honey-voice of his._ Tears threatened to come to her eyes. _How she missed her old life and the people that had populated it. But most of all Mary – and in her wake Ben._

"Where you goin'?" he asked when she just stood in front of him unable to answer.

"Oh..." She woke from her musings. "To the grocery store. Wanna buy me some food."

 _Yeah, you need it, Mattie,_ he thought. On the spur of the moment he decided not to let her go. _He would feed her proper first. Find out how she was doing. Make sure she was all right. It was the least he could do._

"I'm going to the hotel to eat there – wanna join me?"

Mattie hesitated. She hadn't eaten properly in three days and his offer was more than time spent with a friend.  The temptation was irresistible. But she was also scared, scared that he might find out that for her life in Pah-Rimpi had turned out to be hopeless.

"Come on, Mattie," he coaxed. "Mary would never forgive me if I let you go."

Mention of her friend's name seemed to make things worse.  Her eyes filled with tears. "How is Mary?" Mattie asked to cover it up.

"Not here, Mattie," he said softly and nodded towards the hotel further off. "Let's have lunch." He held out his arm for her to take, and she couldn't resist any longer.

Arm in arm they walked along.

"What are you doing in Pah-Rimpi?" she asked him.

"Buying water. Ranch is getting worse. I'll have to sell my horses soon."

"That bad?" Mattie was shocked. Although she had left because of the drought, in her need to cling to good memories she had always remembered Indian Springs as the place where life was simpler, better, happier. To find out that even someone like Ben Warner, a man whom she had always perceived as in control of things, was struggling to cope unsettled her fragile balance. _She couldn't handle anybody else's bad news. Not now that her own life was a misery._

 

They had entered the restaurant that belonged to the hotel. The waiter had cast a suspicious look towards Mattie, but in the company of Ben he didn't dare refuse her entry. Ben insisted on the best table – the restaurant was mostly empty anyway.

"How is Mary?" Mattie asked bravely after they had sat down and Ben had ordered wine and food for both of them.

"She's doing all right," Ben answered and sent her one of his warm smiles. "She misses you, though."

Mattie smiled a helpless little smile back at him. "I miss her, too."

That simple admission was almost too much for her. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she tried to hide the fact by excusing herself. Ben eyed her little bag that she had left lying on the table. He picked it up and inspected its contents. _79 cents and a crumbled handkerchief. How much food did she mean to buy with only 79 cents?_

Silently, he took out his wallet and stuffed 50 dollars into the bag.

When Mattie returned her eyes were red-rimmed. Ben avoided looking at her and concentrated on the soup that had been brought, trying to think about something banal to talk about. But when he looked up and saw her eat the words stuck in his throat.

Mattie ate ravenously, barely pausing to take a breath between gulps. It was so unlike the woman who had always been reserved in her demeanour, always been controlled in her emotions that it pierced his heart.

He looked at her closely.  She had always been slim, but now she looked like skin covering bones. Her elegant dress – once tightly fitting her slim frame – hung about her loosely. Her hands were no longer slender. They resembled an eagle's claws, and her skin was so pale it looked almost translucent.

After the soup the waiter brought two steaks. The soup had already been more than Mattie had had in a couple of days and she didn't feel hungry any longer, but the meat was so tempting she tried it anyway.

She couldn't finish it. Ben had ordered wine with their food, and in her craving Mattie hadn't been careful enough.  She had drunk two glasses of wine, and together with the red meat it made her cheeks burn and she felt a growing dizziness. She just hoped Ben wouldn't launch into a conversation; she couldn't cope with this right now. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Ben had been observing her unobtrusively and was well aware of how she felt. He, too, had known hunger once, and the memory of that time wasn't something he relished or wished to remember.

"How about we take a room here? Rest for a few hours?" he asked.

Mattie hesitated – his words had chased her feeling of safety away. _He would want to sleep with her. Oh, well, what did she expect? It was only fair that she paid him for the abundant meal – paid in the only way she could._

 

 

Not very steady on her feet, she stood beside him as he booked the room.

"How many days do you want to stay, sir?" the receptionist asked.

"Just a few hours," Ben answered and was rewarded with a raised eyebrow and a derogative look towards his escort.

"What?" Ben asked with a hard stare and a softer-than-usual voice, ready to challenge the man should he dare to offend the woman beside him. But he was handed the key without further comment.

 

In the room Mattie suddenly felt helpless. _She didn't want to let go of the image she had of the man standing behind her: Ben Warner – her friend._

Memories of their times in Indian Springs rose in her mind; talks and laughter shared with her friend Mary while Ben had been sitting beside them, watching them both with a smile, enjoying her, Mattie's, acerbic remarks about life in the saloon and the people around them.

The memory threatened to overwhelm her. _She felt so tired..._

"I gotta go back to the ranch, Mattie." Ben's voice brought her back to the present.

He stepped closer and his palms cupped her cheeks.

"I'll say hello to Mary for you," he said softly. And when she looked at him without understanding he added, "You need to sleep a few hours, Mattie. Get yourself some rest before you have to go back to the saloon."

He embraced her and held her tight. _She felt SO SKINNY... it felt as if he was hugging bones._ It was a sickening feeling. _He couldn't leave her here where she was starving, could he?_

She hid her face in his chest, smelling him. The sheer presence of him overwhelmed her. _In a moment he would let her go and leave. She didn't want him to go! But she couldn't make him stay, could she?_

Slowly, they separated and Ben reached for his hat.

"Give Mary my love," Mattie said, and he nodded, wondering if he would ever tell her of this encounter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. An important decision

Violet rose as quietly as she could. _If she was careful she could take a dollar or two out of Tommy's wallet._

She had already taken money from most of her customers. Had to. Simply couldn't make enough money with whoring.

But taking money from Tommy was a first. Quelling her conscience at robbing her milk cow – a cow that wasn't nearly as yielding as Violet had hoped – she picked up Tommy's jacket and searched its pockets.

 

"What are you doing?"

With a shriek Violet dropped the wallet and turned. Tommy stood there... slim, tall, not yet a man – although he certainly behaved like he was cock of the heap with her. His eyes were fixed on the spot on which his wallet had fallen.

 _What would he do now?_ Violet was too scared to move.

Tommy looked into her face and she nearly fainted in fear; his eyes were cold as ice. In them she read something she had often seen in men before they started a brawl or a shoot out. She opened her mouth to placate.

His fist hit her right onto her jawbone, and she fell hard – first against her dressing table, and bouncing back from it she tumbled against the wall. There her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor. The revolting, metallic taste of her own blood was in her mouth, and when she grimaced because of the pain it hurt even worse.

But it wasn't over.

Tommy came at her again. She tried to wave him off with her hands, but he grabbed into her open hair and hurled her away from the space between wall and dressing table into which she had sunk.

"Aiiiiee...!" she screeched in her pain.

Tommy was unimpressed by her wail.

"You harlot!" he shouted. "I pay you so much money, and you try to rob me...!"

Again, he advanced. He backhanded her, and Violet wasn't quick enough to duck. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the blood that was still running out of her mouth.

She started to wail.

"Shut up!" he shouted, and, scared, she did.

A fervent knocking at the door announced that their quarrel hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Violet, what happened?"

It was Lydia's voice.

"Lydia! Help me!" Violet screeched and received another backhand from Tommy.

The knocking at the door became urgent. For a moment, there were several people speaking, then a male voice murmured something.

Another knock, this time imperious.

"Open the door!" It was the barkeeper's voice.

Tommy turned away from Violet and reached for his clothes. After putting on his trousers and shirt he opened the door. He and Harris were fixing each other with a long stare.

Lydia and Mary who had gathered outside rushed in to help Violet. Tommy coolly collected his gear and picked up his wallet from the floor. With a last look at Violet he said, "You won't get another cent from me, you thieving strumpet."

 _No, certainly not! Not a cent and not another minute of his concern. This wasn't how a woman should be. It was a hard lesson to learn it that way,_ Tommy realized. _But it was a lesson he wouldn't forget. After all, one day he would take a wife. And this episode only served to teach him about what his future wife should be – and not be!_

He left – the moral winner in a game that was unfair in the first place.

 

~~~

 

When the two remaining forts sent their answers, the situation changed for Ben. They didn't want to buy any young horses. Only grown mares, without the burden of a suckling foal, would be acceptable to them, and only at a very cheap price.

_No! It was too early for the foals to be weaned. It would mean condemning the little creatures to death, just for the sake of making a few bucks with their mothers!_

Ben was in a dilemma.

_He could either keep them all and use the cash money he had collected to pay for water and hay, the costs of which kept rising and rising, or he could give away the horses for free and leave while he still had enough cash. – What to do?_

 

"Matt..."

"Boss..."

Matt squirmed under Ben's gaze. _What was the matter?_

"I'm packing up and leaving," Ben said.

He could see the shock register in Matt's face. _Strange how some people just never saw it coming. Did his ranch hand really think he would sit on this ground until he was all broke and had to starve?_

Ben cleared his throat.

"I can't sell all the horses. The forts don't want the foals.  They only take the grown ones. You are the best horseman I got. If you wanna take them after I'm gone, they're yours. One thing, though..." Ben added, looking Matt straight in the eye, "I want you to turn Ribbon free. Bring him north to the mountains. I've seen wild mustangs there. Maybe he can join their herd."

Matt nodded. _Ribbon was Ben Warner's horse. Always had been. He remembered how Jason had once tried to saddle the gelding, and how Ribbon had made it impossible for him to mount. The horse obeyed nobody but Ben Warner._

Matt saw Ben fix him.

"Yes, boss," he hastened to say, his smile gone, his body language one of subservience again.

Ben nodded and turned towards the corral that held Ribbon.

Matt's eyes followed him. _Was it his imagination or were Warner's steps suddenly slower, his back bent forward, his shoulders slumped?_

 

 

"Again!"

Matt turned at the yell.

Lilly was practising reining with her mare and had done so for two hours non-stop.

"That's enough!" Matt yelled across the yard. "The mare and you are both tired."

"No, Matt. Not until she's learned it!"

 

From further off Ben shook his head. _His stubborn daughter! Or rather, the poor mare! She was so hot, the sweat was dripping off her. If Lilly didn't stop in a few minutes, he would have to walk over and make her._

Suddenly, there was a crash.

Lilly had signalled her mare to spin, but hadn't taken into account that the fence was too close. Obediently, the mare had done what she had been asked to do and had trapped her leg between the lower rails.

Confused, the animal tried to rear but couldn't free itself from this. Lilly slid off the mare's back and gave a shriek of surprise. To hear her human friend shriek scared the mare even further, and she panicked. Frantically, she tried to pry her leg loose from between the rails, but the more she tried the more it hurt, and the pain in addition to the restriction of movement terrified the horse.

 

Ben came running over as soon as he saw Lilly slide off the horse's back. By the time he reached them, Lilly was already on her feet again, unharmed.

The mare's hysteria had resulted in her finally getting her leg out, but it had also made her keel over and fall. Now she was writhing in the dust, moving her legs, moaning terribly.

Again and again, she tried to get up, but her front leg hurt whenever she moved it, and she couldn't endure putting any weight on it. With a terrible sound she fell back on the ground again.

Tears streamed down Lilly's face as she bent over her mare, ignoring her violent movements.

"Get off her, Lilly," Ben said, his voice calm.

"She's hurt her leg," Jason said unnecessarily.

"Daddy," Lilly sobbed, "help her!"

Ben took out his gun. Lilly stared at him.

"You can't just shoot her!"

"Lilly... she can't get up. Her leg's broken. It's best to put her out of her pain."

"No!"

Like a madwoman, Lilly jumped him. Ben's finger was already at the trigger, and her movement almost triggered the shot.

Ben shoved Lilly off himself forcefully.

"Are you mad?" he barked at her. "Get out of my way. You can't just jump someone who holds a gun!"

"Daddy.... nooooo!" Desperate, Lilly stood in front of him, blocking his access to the mare.

Ben tried to move around her.

"Please don't shoot her, Daddy!" Pleeease..."

Almost hysterical now, she mirrored his every move, so he wouldn't reach her mare.

"Lilly..."

Ben's voice was calm, love and pity seeping into it. And it did reach her. Her frantic passion gave way to desperation. Sobbing uncontrollably now she stood in front of him.

"Daddy..." Her voice was subdued now... as small and meek as she felt in the face of a tragedy that she, herself, had brought about. _Her mare! Her friend! In pain, under threat of death!_

Her tears kept running down her cheeks.

"You can't shoot her. I love her..."

At Lilly's declaration, Ben's anger deflated completely.

_He could never see her cry, but to see her so desperate was even worse. Well, no wonder, after all it had been her stubbornness that would cost the mare her life._

As Lilly bent over her beloved friend again, pictures rushed through Ben: pictures of a little girl chasing a copper-coloured foal, pictures of the foal playing tug-of-war with the little girl's skirt, pictures of both foal and child sleeping in the meadow, exhausted from play.

As he looked up from his thoughts he met Matt's eyes. They were full of tears.

Matt saw Ben's eyes shift, and a question appear in them. _Could he want to keep the mare alive? No. Ben Warner wasn't stupid. He knew that a horse with a broken leg had to be shot. What would you do with it, anyway? Even if the mare survived, she might never walk again._

"Matt...?" Ben's voice was tentative.  He wasn't quite sure of himself and wanted reassurance from his best horseman.

Matt frowned. _Could they try to save the mare? Had it ever been done? A horse that couldn't even stand up..._

"If we can get her up..." Matt said tentatively, but then fell silent again.

He bent down to look at the mare's leg.

"Hold her down for me, will ya," he said, and the hands all lent their strength to restrain the animal.

He touched all over the mare's leg. The animal, used to people and calmed by Lilly's voice and constant patting, relaxed somewhat and stopped the thrashing.

"Doesn't feel so bad," Matt murmured, "maybe it's not fully broken and we can mend it." He looked up at Ben. "Don't know. If we can get her up and get into the stable..."

 

Ben sent Lilly away to prepare a box for her mare in the barn that housed the sick animals.

Then the men present tried to heave up the animal. It took a while till the mare understood that they were trying to help her get up. Lilly could hear her cry out in pain at the futile attempts to get on her feet. Her tears rolled down her cheeks as she took bales of straw to fill one of the empty boxes for her friend.

 

After the men had managed to heave the mare up, Matt tried to coax her to walk. It took him and Ben over half an hour to guide, nudge and force the mare to hobble to the barn and into her box.

Once there, she was tied up so she couldn't lie down again.

"Won't be good her standing on three legs all the time," Matt reasoned. "Makes the other legs cramp up."

Ben and Matt shared a serious look.

"Ah... I'll think of something," Matt murmured, reassuring Ben with a nod. Ben knew that there was nothing he could do. If Matt couldn't get the mare through, he certainly couldn't either.

 

 

It was past midnight when Lilly returned from the barn.

"How is she?" Ben asked.

Lilly just shrugged her shoulders but didn't answer. Her face was swollen with tears.

Ben's look was hard. He felt sorry for her, but he wouldn't console her. _This accident was her doing. And it was time she learned to face up to her responsibilities!_

"Matt has built something to help her stand," she said, "so she can rest her legs." Then she vanished in her room.

 

Ben tried to sleep, too, but sleep wouldn't come so easily. It had become a ritual for him to mentally run through the day again, to re-assess his situation, and to think about the next day. With the drought, these musings had taken on an almost compulsive nature.

_He should have shot this mare! Now it would take weeks, perhaps months, until she was well enough so they could take her with them. If ever!_

In the darkness of his bedroom a face rose before his eyes, the face of Dan Evans!

_Everything Dan had done he had done for his son William. Once the boy had joined the posse Dan had done his utmost to make William respect him, and in the wake of these actions Dan had died and had left his family behind without protection... well, without a protector. They had had Butterfield's money, but what was money compared to a father and husband._

_He, too, had just jeopardized their future by giving in to Lilly, by not being able to destroy the picture of the good father that she had of him!_

_It was crazy! If he hadn't given in to Lilly, he wouldn't be lying here, worrying about this animal. He would be planning their move to Carson City or even San Francisco..._

Forcefully, Ben kicked off his blanket and got dressed.

_He had to get out! Had to get some fresh air or he would go mad!_

 

Lilly had heard her father get up again.

_He was going into town to see this whore!_

But somehow, Lilly didn't mind so much any more. Her guilt bore down heavily on her. _If only she had been further from that fence... or if she had stopped the lesson earlier..._

 

~~~

 

A full moon illuminated the ranch yard. A black-clad man stood silently and watched the sleeping horses. As he pondered the stars in the sky and listened to the sounds of the night, he tried to come to grips with where he stood in life.

The darkness of the night was replaced by the first light. Nature threw its glowing morning colours lavishly over the meadows and the buildings, and still the man stood and listened and thought.

When the first sounds of birds could be heard, the black-clad man finally turned and walked back into his house.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	12. Ben and the saloon girls

"Nobody, Mr Jones, _nobody_ must learn that the money is mine."

Jeremiah Jones shook his head. On the table before him Ben Warner had spread 14,000 cash dollars. How the man had done this was beyond Jones. He knew that Ben Warner was wealthy. But owning a ranch and horses was not the same as having so much cash money to spare.

Mr. Jones had suspected that in the present situation even Ben Warner might be selling his horses in order to pack his bags and leave Indian Springs, but he would never have thought that he might sell his horses in order to _save the town!_

"Mr. Warner... I don't know what to say."

"There's no need to say anything," Ben said. "Yours is the best idea anyone has come up with. Here's the money; put it to good use."

He shoved the piles of bank notes in the direction of the banker.

"Only condition is that nobody finds out where the money came from."

Naturally, the deeper meaning of Ben's words escaped the banker. The money on the table was money Ben had collected from his various hiding-places. It was railroad money, accumulated over years and years, gained unlawfully through robberies. If the townspeople were told that such an amount had come out of Ben's pocket, and if anybody smart put two and two together, there might be some digging into his private affairs.

 

Tommy was enthusiastic.

"Now we can put our plan into practice," he said to Mr. Jones.

"I will tell people that it is from a bank in Chicago..." Mr. Jones mused. "But what about paying it back?" he then asked Ben Warner. "What about interest rates for giving us the loan?"

Ben wasn't a banker. He knew that people with lots of money tended to make _even more_ money, but he had never contemplated the very idea of interest rates. Those were long-term ideas, ideas alien to an outlaw who was constantly on the move. 'Interest rates' for credits to make even more money... no. He didn't need to pursue this idea. For him it was vital that the town – and particularly his suppliers –  remained.

He shook his head.

"I'm not here to buy the town," he said. "I want the town to survive so I can stay on my ranch."

This was as close as he would come to admitting the truth of his motives. He was staying because of Lilly, and he couldn't survive without the town providing what he needed.

He felt he had said enough. Any more, and even a man like Jones would begin to wonder... Touching the brim of his hat, Ben nodded to the banker and straightened his back.

"Mr. Jones..."

The banker stood up, reaching out a shaking hand for Ben to grip.

"Thank you, Mr. Warner," he said, choking on the words.

 

 

Tommy stayed behind with Mr. Jones to put the money into the safe, and to see to the details of their plan. Ben crossed the street and entered the grocery. Mrs. Miller was busy filling up glass jars with her delicious cookies. Mr. Miller was working in the back room.

"Mrs. Miller..."

At the sound of Ben's voice, Mrs. Miller turned around, a wide smile on her lips.

"Mr. Warner... nice to see you. What can I get you?"

Ben smiled, pointing to her cookies.

"A huge bag of your delicious cookies would be fine."

Mrs. Miller laughed.

"Everybody is buying cookies. I don't know. It is as if the situation has made everybody appreciate the little things in life."

She formed a huge cone out of paper and shovelled cookies into it until it was full.

"There you go. That'll be fifty cents."

Silently, Ben placed a stack of bank notes on the table in front of her. Her smile froze.

"What's this?" she asked. Her husband had come out of the back room and was looking at the money.

"That's 500 dollars," Ben said. The Millers looked at him.

"I've heard talk that you want to pack and leave because people ain't paying their debts. I want you to stay. Take the money and keep up your business," Ben explained.

"Now, wait a minute..." Mr. Miller started but his wife's hand on his arm stopped him.

"You are serious, aren't you?" she asked Ben. Ben nodded.

"Yes, I'm serious. There's no point in the whole town packing up and going somewhere else. 500 dollars will help you hold out for another few months until everybody else can pay again."

The Millers looked at each other.

"What about payment for my son's medicine?" Mr. Miller asked Ben. Ben laughed and waved the cookies in front of him.

"Same as payment for your wife for teaching my girl," he said and turned to leave. At the door he turned again.

"You know," he said in the direction of Mrs. Miller, "Lilly has turned into a pretty good cook already, thanks to you. Soon her cookies will be better than yours. Then you won't make any more money off me that way."

He tipped his hat in greeting, and left with a smile on his lips. He meant to pay another visit, meant to distribute another 500 dollars.

 

 

"Are you sure, Ben?" Mary asked.

The girls were standing around him, holding the bank notes in their hands.

"50 dollars for each of you isn't much. You'll need it sooner or later."

The girls nodded. They already did.

Ben handed Harris, the saloon owner, 200 dollars.

"No charges for the girls until their business is back," he said. Harris nodded. _This wasn't charity. The man knew too well what he was doing. What was his plan? And what if he just pocketed the money and left town?_

"What if it falls apart and I can't pay you back?" he asked.

A look from Ben confirmed what Harris was thinking.

"No need to pay it back. I just want the girls to be safe." His gaze swept over the girls and came to rest on Mary. Ben took her hand and kissed it.

"See you tomorrow, girl," he said to her. It was actually a question. _Was she free? Or did she want to spend the time with her sweetheart?_ But Mary nodded and smiled her sweetest smile at him.

So Ben nodded to the girls, his finger found the brim of his hat and a slight smile played in the corners of his mouth.

"Ladies..."

 

Before Ben could mount his horse Violet caught up with him.

"Mr Warner!" she exclaimed, and a few people turned their heads.

"Yes?"

"The girls... we would like you to come see us later today," she said.

 

" _See you_?" he inquired amused.

"Yes," she nodded. "As a thank you for the money."

"What do you want?" he asked, made curious by Violet's strange behaviour.

"It's a surprise," she answered. "You'll see..."

There was a smile in his eyes that turned into a sparkle. After all, there weren't so many different ways the girls could 'thank' him...

"All right," he nodded. "I’ll see you all tonight."

 

~~~

 

"How is your mare?" Ben asked when he returned home.

Lilly was on her knees, scrubbing the house. In the corner there was a tub full of laundry.

"She's fine. Matt has cleaned her wounds, and they're healing."

She didn't turn when she spoke.

Ben frowned at her words. He had looked in on the mare first and learned from Matt that Lilly hadn't been with her mare all day.

"You planning on selling the house to someone?"

"What?" His remark had stunned her and she turned.

"Way you're scrubbing it you'd think we have buyers coming to have a look at the place."

"Don't be silly," she said. "The room was a mess. What's wrong with me cleaning it?"

Ben didn't answer and Lilly didn't expect him to. She kept scrubbing away.

_Oh, well... if she worked off her worries for her mare through this, it was all right with him. Still..._

 

~~~

 

When Ben entered the saloon all the girls were waiting for him, giggling to each other when they saw him approach them.

"So, ladies," Ben smiled, "what do you want with me?"

The girls giggled some more, then Violet, the most daring spoke up.

"We'll blindfold you," she said holding up a dark woollen scarf.

Ben raised his eyebrows.

"And then what?" The other girls giggled again.

"And then," Violet continued, "one of us will touch you..."

" _Touch_ me?"

"Your hand," Violet giggled at his words. "Or kiss you, or something. And you have to guess who it is."

Ben was getting it.

"And if I'm wrong, what then?"

The girls giggled again.

"If you don't know who it is, then you'll have to drink a whisky," Violet said. "We are six girls," she added with a grave voice.

"So I might get to drink six whiskies," Ben smirked. "But what if I'm right?"

This time the girls blushed under his gaze. They had been discussing beforehand what they would grant him should he find out their name.

Ben looked at each of them, then his eyes finally came to rest on Violet. She coughed.

"Well, if you really _do_ find out who it is, you... um... you..."

"Yes...?" Ben smiled. _Whatever it was they were mighty shy to admit what they were up to. Must be something special._

"You get a free shot," she said.

The smile on Ben's face deepened, and he pursed his lips in anticipation of the pleasure to come. He cast a look around, and the girls' colours heightened at his gaze. His eyes grew a shade darker, his thoughts drifting to what was to come... the connoisseur was already tasting his victory.

"Well?" Violet raised the scarf. She had found her guts again. "Will you play?"

In answer Ben turned around to let her tie the scarf around his eyes. Then Violet turned him a couple of times and motioned to the others to scatter so he would get disoriented.

Ben stood in the middle of the saloon waiting. The only onlooker at that early time apart from the girls was Harris, the saloon owner, whose smile was the most outrageously smug one the girls had ever seen on him.

Sandy was the first to approach Ben. Behind her Violet motioned to Jane to hand her her little bottle of perfume. Without a sound Violet put on the other girl's perfume, using it on her face, neck, and ears as Jane usually did.

Meanwhile Sandy had walked up to Ben. She meant to place a chaste kiss on his lips to give him as little information as possible, but then realized that she didn't want him to drink a whisky. She _wanted_ to be recognized by him. She didn't really mind lying with him for free.

Ben felt one of the girls close-by and tensed in anticipation. His senses were on alert. He knew they were excited and they wanted to play and fool around a bit, and he was determined not to let their touches confuse him. _Surely smell and touch would suffice to find out who each of the girls was, wouldn't it?_

Sandy placed a finger on Ben's lips. Then she raised herself on her toes and – softly – took Ben's ears in her hands. Some of the girls giggled. Sandy's lips touched his. He kissed her back softly, his arms folding around her waist.

"Sandy," he declared, then bent his head to speak in her ear, "why did you give our private kiss away, girl?"

Sandy only smiled, a smile Ben, naturally, couldn't see. She let go of him as slowly as she had approached and walked away while the girls all clapped their hands.

Ben stood and waited for the next girl. For a few seconds nobody dared approach, then Violet came forward and cuddled up to Ben, whose arms automatically hugged her. The smell of flower perfume was all around her and him, too much for his taste, actually, but there was no mistaking who it was.

"Jane," he said, and everybody laughed.

Violet ripped the scarf from his eyes.

"No!" she declared triumphantly. Ben stood corrected. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small bottle of perfume on a nearby table, and Jane, who had caught his look, quickly took it and put it back in her little bag.

Harris handed Ben a whisky, and Ben drank it while eyeing Violet.

She blushed. True, she had managed to outwit him, but only after Ben made a show of enjoying his whisky did she realize that she might have had more fun losing this game. Ben saw her blush, and enjoyed it even more than the drink.

Violet blindfolded him again. This time she was really relieved to be able to hide his mocking eyes behind the scarf.

The next girl to approach Ben was Lydia. Lydia was endowed well, a girl quite to Ben's taste, round, soft and lush with wide hips and a bosom to sink into. She wriggled up to Ben, who smiled widely – it wasn't difficult for him to recognize her.

"Lydia," he said, and the girls laughed, some of them clapping again.

Now Mary was approaching him shyly. She didn't want to give anything away as Sandy had their private kissing, and she wasn't sure what to do or how to hint that it was her. She didn't want Ben to have a drink.  She wanted him to recognize her. But if she gave herself away too easily, the other girls would know, and they would call it cheating. So she reached up to him, her hands on his shoulders and, much like Sandy, placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

Ben turned serious.

"Mary," he whispered, and grabbed her into his embrace and a sound kiss. Mary's lips which had opened into a wide smile at him recognizing her were engulfed by his mouth, and she hugged him back. They kissed. Their kiss grew and blossomed. They feasted on each other's lips, and smiled while they tasted each other.

 

The girls had grown quiet watching the scene unfold in front of them. It didn't look like a game any longer. It looked like – love.

When they let finally go of each other, Ben stood there for quite some time. Nobody dared approach. Upstairs a door opened and Violet came down again. She hadn't witnessed Ben and Mary's kiss but had washed in her room to get rid of the perfume smell and in order to approach him again.

The others were a bit confused, but Violet put a finger to her lips to shush them and slowly approached Ben again.

Ben smiled in anticipation. There weren't too many girls left. Mattie had left town, and there were Cindy and Lucy, who had both come recently to Indian Springs from Pah-Rimpi. When Violet approached him, she raised her right hand and softly caressed his bearded cheek. Then she stepped back. Everybody stood quiet.

Harris stood beside Ben. He coughed, but it held no special meaning. He was just standing there, the whisky bottle in his hands, waiting for Ben to decide whether he wanted a whisky or a girl. Harris was a quiet chap, but he made up for it by the diligent observation of his customers. He was a good judge of character and had understood from the first minute that Ben knew every girl and it was his _choice_ whether he got a girl or a drink. Violet's trick had been unexpected and really clever.

Ben stood without moving. Obviously the short touch had not been enough. So Violet approached him again, took his face in both her hands and made him bend down to her. Then she kissed his forehead and immediately afterwards, just like the first touch, let him go and stepped back again.

Ben heard a giggle. _Lydia? ... No. Whoever the girl in front of him was, she was clever and wanted to trick him. So it wasn't Cindy. And Lucy was much too sweet to think of any tricks. So it had to be... Violet. She was trying to trick him again! He would have thought if she really did approach him again, she would give him an obvious chance to recognize her. ... So she wanted him to drink another whisky... well, well... that girl needed to be taught a lesson!_

Ben folded his arms and stood motionless. The girls realized that he wouldn't answer. So Violet approached him a third time. This time she kissed him. Not too chaste, but not too passionately either. Ben shook his head. _No. He couldn't say._ The girls looked at each other. Violet snuggled up to him. She took one of his hands and placed them in her hair. Violet always used combs in her hair... she had a huge array of them on her dressing table, and she was known for this. This, she was sure, would definitely give her away... but Ben just shook his head again.

Inwardly he smiled. _The poor girl would soon make a sound or say something out of sheer frustration._ He knew that Violet could, on occasion, have a very short fuse! Even now he could hear her give an exasperated sigh.

Sandy and Lucy were exchanging a look. They watched Ben closely and could see he was play-acting. He _knew_ the girl in front of him was Violet, and he made her give herself away to him in spite of her wanting to trick him. _Now, wasn't that just typical of the man?_ Again, they exchanged knowing glances and had a hard time staying serious.

Meanwhile, Violet had taken Ben's hands and put them around her waist, then up to her face, but Ben steadfastly shook his head and refused to say anything. Finally, Violet gave an exasperated growl and looked around – into the smiles and smug faces of everybody else. Only then did she realize that Ben was having her on.

"Oh...!" She wanted to get angry, but his smug smile emerging from under the blindfold dispelled her anger and she started laughing.

"Now," Ben said quietly, "do you want me to drink another whisky... _Violet_?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, and he ripped off the blindfold. Then he bent over so that only she could hear his words.

"Don't worry, darlin'. I won't call the bet unless you want me to." His eyes twinkled with mischief, and she had to declare herself beaten.

 

There were only two girls left: Cindy and Lucy.

Ben was blindfolded again and Lucy approached him. With only two girls remaining there wasn’t much fun in the game any longer – and Lucy stood no chance. The moment he felt a girl near, Ben’s hand came up to her neck. He was bending the rules here, but the girls didn’t notice. His hand found the chain she always wore, and the smile that appeared on his face confirmed that he knew what he was doing.

"Lucy," he declared, then held out his hand for Cindy to take.

"Cindy..." he said, and she stepped forward, taking his hand and kissing his cheek.

The game was over.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	13. A wedding

" 'A man is the facade of a temple wherein all wisdom and all good abide. What we commonly call man, the eating, drinking, planting, counting man, does not, as we know him, represent himself, but misrepresents himself.' "

_14,000 cash dollars... handed over to save the town._

As Jeremiah Jones sat in his comfortable armchair reading Emerson's essay 'The Over-Soul', his mind kept drifting to Ben Warner. He was still stunned by the man's action, just couldn't grasp that a man like Ben Warner would forego the safety of his own ranch and future in order to save the town. Jones stared in front of himself as the scene played over and over in his mind.

_He had never quite known what to make of Ben Warner. Somehow he liked the man, liked his decisiveness once a problem arose. The few times Warner had come to his bank as a customer he had been reasonable, practical and without the usual tension that was so wide-spread in his customers whenever they had to deal with matters of money. But to use his wealth like this..._

Puzzled, Jeremiah Jones shook his head.

_If Warner were a man devoted to God, there might be an ulterior motive in his sacrifice, but Ben Warner was never seen in church - and the Reverend despised him for his love of women... well, saloon girls, rather. Warner was a most peculiar man, indeed._

Jeremiah Jones opened the book again. _Where was he...? Ah, yes... the 'facade' of a man not being his true nature. Emerson really had a way of seeing the best in man... it was a joy to read his essays._

" 'Him (the man) we do not respect, but the soul, whose organ he is, would he let it appear through his action, would make our knees bend. When it breathes through his intellect, it is genius; when it breathes through his will, it is virtue; when it flows through his affection, it is love.' "

Jeremiah Jones looked up from his book and took a deep breath.

_Yes, that was it. He couldn't have put it in better words. Ralph Waldo Emerson had just described Ben Warner..._

 

~~~

 

"Careful, step back!"

The banker, Joshua Bunnywhistle, Adam Carter, and two dozen farmers and town merchants were assembled when the drilling rig was installed.

With a bit of luck they could hit water in a few days, and – maybe, just maybe – in a week or two Bunnywhistle's well would yield enough water to supply the town's needs.

 

~~~

 

Sunday.

A packed church.

Ben sat in one of the last pews, Mary at his side. The Reverend had frowned at first – he didn't allow the saloon girls in church. But Ben was an invited guest of the Evans family, and so the Reverend hadn't dared make them leave.

Ben wasn't feeling too comfortable himself. He hadn't wanted to come, but Alice Evans had sent word that she would like to see him present at the ceremony, and so he hadn't had a chance to refuse. Her nod and smile at seeing him first astonished Ben. But then he understood that the invitation was her way of expressing her gratitude for his visit to her. Alice Evans was glad she had let William know that she was willing to meet his girl. By respecting William's choice she had successfully eliminated the rift that had begun to develop between her and her eldest son.

Mary had asked Ben to wish the bride and bridegroom luck, and Ben had realized that – enamoured though William seemed to be – he still didn't quite dare present Mary at his side in front of everybody in church. _If Mary was to be a member of the Evans family sooner or later, then she should be present at the wedding of her future brother-in-law._ And so, Ben had insisted on Mary accompanying him.

As William had announced, the wedding was a modest one. The bride and groom wore their Sunday apparel, and that was it. But they looked very nice beside each other, particularly the young, blushing bride, whose eyes were downcast as if she were too shy to look into anybody's face.

"Someone said that Susan White didn't fit into her dress. It had to be altered," a female voice said behind Ben and Mary. "Do you think she's pregnant?"

The last sentence was only whispered but the reaction was a shocked gasp.

"Do you think so, Amanda?"

"Wouldn't be surprised."

Ben groaned inwardly. At this moment he envied Tommy and Lilly, who had stayed at home.

"But Mark Evans is a Christian man!"

A derisive sound was the answer.

"Christian or not. I've never seen a man refuse... _this_... when it is offered."

 _I would if it came from you,_ was all Ben could think at this moment. He cast a look at Mary, who sat beside him sniggering.  She pressed her handkerchief on her mouth to suppress her giggles.

"No, Amanda," the voice said again. "I won't believe that. Susan White has always been a shy and quiet girl."

"Mind you, it's the quiet waters that run deep."

Ben looked at the young girl standing beside Mark Evans. When Susan White had entered the church her eyes had been fixed on her shoes. She had looked as if she wanted to hide rather than be on display.

Thankfully, at that moment the ceremony began, and the two busybodies fell silent.

 

Right after leaving church the young couple left for their farm while Alice and William Evans stayed behind, entertaining their closest friends at the restaurant inside the hotel. Ben meant to hand Mary over to William and leave, but the two of them barely exchanged a glance. Instead, Mary kept hanging on his arm. _Perhaps William didn't want it known yet that he and Mary were to be wed._

So Ben said his farewells, and he and Mary slowly walked back to the saloon. He meant to collect Ribbon to return to the ranch, but Mary wanted him to stay and he was glad for the opportunity. It might be his last time with her.

 

"Ben? Have you ever thought about marrying?"

Ben and Mary were lying in bed enjoying the feeling of post-coital warmth and languidness. Ben turned and looked at her.

"Now, where did that come from, girl?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought... well, you know."

It wasn't difficult to follow her train of thought after attending the wedding. And then there was his conversation with William Evans. It really wasn’t hard to put two and two together and make it four. Mary was William's sweetheart. Though why she wouldn't admit it to him he didn't understand.

_Was she scared of him?... No, that couldn't be. She knew him too well, knew that he wasn’t a man to make trouble and claim possession of a girl simply because he paid her. But why didn’t she refuse him when she loved William? Perhaps she needed a dowry and didn't want to forego his money. After all, he paid her well for his visits. Well... the girl wouldn't say, so he would have to get it out of her._

"You in love with someone?" Ben asked. It sounded neither threatening nor teasing, so Mary decided to be honest.

"Yes."

"He treat you right?"

"Yes." Now she smiled, a soft tender smile right into his eyes.

"He wants to take you out of the cat-house.  He will want to leave... go some other place, so nobody knows you there, won't he?" Ben probed. He wasn't sure William Evans would leave his family, but then with the drought not letting up he might be inclined to take Mary and start somewhere anew. And Ben didn't want to tell her right away that William had already talked to him.

Mary hadn't thought of that, he could tell. Her mind tried to digest his words.

"Or you wanna live with them people who will tease you for having been a whore before?" Ben asked her. Mary smiled again.

"I don't mind. I love him."

 _Could she really mean that?_ \- _Yes, she could._ _It was actually very endearing, because her child-like innocence didn't allow for double-thinking. Mary was naive and still believed in people because she had not seen much in life. She was nice to everybody, and she definitely deserved being treated nicely in turn._

"I'm gonna miss you, girl," Ben said, running his hand through her hair, "miss you bad. The other girls ain't like you, you know."

Mary hugged him, and he hugged her back. For a moment it was as if she wanted to hide in his embrace. _Pity_ , he thought, _but only fair that it's the good ones who get to get out._

"I'm not sure I'm good enough for a decent man," she murmured, her voice small, almost like a child's, her face hidden in his chest.

"You kidding, darlin'? Feller better treat you right. You are as good as any lady."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"You never wanted to have a woman of your own, Ben?"

Ben shook his head.

"No. Not any more. Tried it. That's not for me, Mary."

Mary sighed and buried deeper into his chest again.

_Her mood had changed.  He could feel it. Perhaps he should leave._

"You want me gone tonight?" Ben asked her, his mouth in her hair.

She shook her head.

"No. Please stay."

 

 

The next morning when Ben left Mary, a slender, red-haired woman entered the saloon.

"Mattie!"

"Ben."

She still looked slim, Ben found, but had fleshed out a bit since he had last seen her in Pah-Rimpi. Also, the haunted look in her eyes was gone. _Seemed she had put those fifty dollars to good use._

"Visiting Mary?" he asked but Mattie shook her head.

"No. I'm back," she said and was touched by the tender smile that appeared on his face.

"That's good, girl," he said softly, and his rough fingers stroked over her jaw.

"Where's Mary?" she asked.

"Upstairs." Ben gave a wave of his head. "I gotta go back to the ranch. See you around."

As she saw the swinging doors close after him, an unknown and rather bewildering feeling gripped her heart. _She had just come home!_

 

 

 

 

 

 


	14. Rain and death

"You're not going into town?" Ben asked Tommy that evening when his son sat slumped in front of the fireplace, staring into the void.

Tommy shook his head.

"Oh?" Ben was amused. "Need any money?"

Tommy scoffed at that.

"My money is too precious to waste on a girl."

Ben had no idea about what had happened between Tommy and Violet, and he gave his son a piercing look. "Care to explain that?"

"It's no use spending a dime on a woman!" Tommy hurled at him full of hatred, as if he wanted to wage war on his father. "You're not getting anything back from them!"

Ben raised his eyebrows in astonishment. Tommy was deadly serious.

"From now on I will use my money for useful things – not line the purses of harlots!"

Lilly was listening in and smiling. _It would seem that her brother had learned his lesson... maybe her father, too, could learn a thing or two from Tommy._

"What about you?" she asked when Ben settled beside Tommy, book in hand. "Are you going into town tonight?"

"No."

_Mattie had just returned. Mary must be overjoyed. Let the two girls enjoy each other's company. He could do with a quiet evening at home._

_And anyway, with the wedding over, William was probably eager now to meet his girl._

 

Ben was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't perceive Lilly's smile of victory.

_He didn't visit that whore. It was more important to stay at home with her, to be in a clean house and have a good meal. She had done it! From now on she would keep up her work in the house, maybe even clean his bedroom, so he could see what she did for him. – Oh, and she would clear out the mess in the corner beside the main door. All those little things that were carelessly dropped there upon entering and rummaged through when you needed them again. Her father would definitely notice her doing this._

 

Smiling, Lilly cleared the table and heated water to clean the dishes...

 

 ~~~

 

" 'The soul knows only the soul, the web of events is the flowing robe in which she is clothed. After it's own law and not by arithmetic is the rate of its progress to be computed. The soul's advances are not made by gradation, such as can be represented by motion in a straight line; but rather by ascension of state, such as can be represented by metamorphosis, - from the egg to the worm, from the worm to the fly.' "

_No, this was no good._

Ben closed the book on his lap and stared in front of himself. The words were dragging him down rather than lifting him up. He didn't feel like he was advancing.

_And what good would it be, anyway, if he, Ben Wade, were to strive towards some lofty goal? He would never even come close to what Emerson described!_

 

~~~

 

"Yeeeeeeah!"

"Yippiiiiiieh!"

The sounds and cries of triumph rang far. Only a few days after the drilling had begun they had hit water! It had been right under that rocky layer, hidden away, clean and pure.

Joshua Bunnywhistle couldn't prevent the tears from streaming down his face. _Now they could relax; they could weather the longest drought._

 

When he and Adam Carter rode into town later that day to let the townspeople know, it only served to get their spirits even higher: it had finally been raining in the mountains nearby.

Soon the rains would hit Indian Springs, too. 

 

Ben meant to celebrate the good news in the saloon.

_Although Mary was probably with William by now, there was always a girl that might be willing to spend the night with him. And there was Mattie, too. He hadn't spoken with her since she had returned from Pah-Rimpi._

When Ben arrived at the saloon Mary wasn't there. William Evans sat at one of the tables, Sandy on his lap. But they were too busy with each other to take notice of him.

Ben sat down at his usual corner table and drank a whisky. _Perhaps Mary was upstairs with someone and didn't know William was around._

Mattie approached him. They exchanged a silent look, then he gestured for her to sit down.

"Mary is gone," Mattie said.

"Since when?"

"She left two days ago."

Mattie hesitated. She didn't know who else knew about Mary and her secret lover, but since she had seen Mary and Ben together she believed the man had a right to be told the truth. Not knowing how a man like Ben Warner might react to the news of having 'his' girl taken away by another man, she took a deep breath before saying

"I believe she ran away with her boyfriend."

Ben was astonished. William Evans was sitting only a few yards away, so it couldn't be him, could it?

"Who is he? Do you know?" he asked.

"No." Mattie shook her head. "I thought you might have an idea."

_He had had, but it would seem he had been wrong._

"She never mentioned a name."

Mattie nodded. Unbidden, the bartender brought over two whiskies.

"She didn't confide in you?" Ben asked Mattie.

"She talked to me about leaving the business. She wanted to be rid of all the men."

When she looked up and saw his eyes they reminded her that he, too, was one of those men.

"Well, I mean... you know..." A wave of his hand told her there was no need to apologize.

"Go on."

"Did you know that for weeks now she has refused every man but you?"

It was a small nagging feeling that began to make itself known in Ben's stomach. Mary had talked about leaving the cat-house to him. He turned again to look at William Evans. He seemed perfectly content leading Sandy up the stairs and into her room.

When Ben looked into Mattie's eyes again she nodded as if to emphasize her words.

"It's true. She lived on the money you gave her for the last weeks. At least, that's what the other girls told me. When I asked her about it all, she told me to mind my own business. I believe she was meeting with someone secretly. It's obvious when a girl doesn't want anything to do with any other man. You were her only customer. I..."

Mattie looked down at her hands but then she decided to be blunt.

"I asked her why she didn't refuse you, too, if she was in love with someone else. She never answered my question, just turned and left. I think she cried."

The nagging in his stomach got worse. Ben felt sick. Somehow the story didn't tie up.

"I guess she needed your money to run away with the guy," Mattie finished her story. "Please don't be angry at her."

"When was it you last saw her?" Ben asked.

"The day before yesterday. When I knocked at her door yesterday afternoon she was gone," Mattie answered.

Without a word Ben rose and left the saloon.

He walked over to the sheriff's office to fetch him, and he also insisted the doctor accompany them. As they rode out of town, thunder rumbled in the distance and the air was sticky. It was only a matter of days, perhaps hours now until the rains would come.

Ben led them to the little clearing where he had once sat with Mary.

 

 _Yes, he had been right. There she was._ The three men approached the girl lying on the blood-stained grass. She had slit her throat; they could all see that they had come too late. Ben knelt down at Mary's side. Her eyes stared unseeingly into the sky, her brown curls and her clothes were drenched in her own blood, indicating she had been thrashing around in agony. Softly, Ben tried to close her eyes but couldn't. It was too late for that. Her body was already stiff and her eyes kept staring. Then he saw the little chain he had given her. She held it in her hand.

"How did you know where to look for her?" the sheriff asked Ben.

"We came here once. I..." Ben's voice faltered. To see the girl lying there like this was hard, and he had to shake his head to clear it.

Sheriff Davis only nodded. It wasn't unheard of that whores killed themselves – or vanished. He wasn't too surprised, really. What he wondered about was that Ben Warner had tried to find her, knowing it could mean finding her dead. Not many men would do this. Most didn't want their name linked to a whore. But then, Ben Warner was a man who was very hard to read. The sheriff had always had a strange feeling where he was concerned.

"There is nothing to be done," Doc Martens said with a look at Ben.

Ben's nod to his words was tired. Doc Martens could see that Ben Warner's eyes were full of tears. _A most peculiar man._

Ben rose and walked a few yards off, breathing deeply, trying to find his balance again. The feeling of having made a mistake that the talk with Mattie had evoked was hitting him square in the stomach. He had killed dozens of men, some deservedly, others only because they got in his way. But for the first time he felt guilt at the death of a person.

_This death was on him – entirely on him. Mary had tried to tell him that she wanted to leave the cat-house. She had wanted to be his woman. But he hadn't seen it. Hadn't read her right. Why, oh why hadn't she dared speak out?_

 

~~~

 

The rains had finally come, but her father had suddenly turned morose. Lilly couldn't understand it. He had told her that Mary - whoever that was! - had been found dead, but why that should bother him was beyond her. After all, there were so many saloon girls. He knew all of them, so why didn't he just pick another one?

Lilly had used the opportunity of Ben being around to turn his attention back to herself. She had cooked his favourite dinner, she had brushed his jacket and hat, and she had even polished his boots! But he just sat there, spoon in hand, staring in front of himself with a dark look on his face.

The combination of guilt and pain hit Ben hard. He just couldn't forget the face of that young girl, her eyes full of agony, her body stiff and cold...

"Daddy, do you want more soup?"

It was his favourite, but her father shook his head.

Again, tears welled up in his eyes at the very thought of the girl. He didn't want Lilly to see them, didn't want to talk, and so he rose and walked towards the stairs.

Suddenly made afraid by his behaviour, Lilly blocked his way.

"I'm going to bed," he said. "Don't worry, Lilly. I'll be all right. All I need is some time."

_He needed time. That was no problem. The drought was over, and they had all the time in the world!_

Satisfied, Lilly took the broom and swiped the floor.

_Her rival was gone. And her father was hers again. All she had to do from now on was to keep doing what she did for him. And she would see to it that no other woman would ever become a threat to her again!_

 

~~~

 

"What do you mean, she cannot be buried there!!"

Mattie had never heard Ben Warner raise his voice before; it was downright scary.

"Mr. Warner," the Reverend continued, "the girl was a whore. I cannot allow her to be buried in Christian soil."

"Romans 3:13 reminds us 'For _all_ have sinned and come short of the glory of God,' if you remember your Bible correct, Reverend."

Ben's voice was quiet... dangerously quiet. The stare with which he fixed the Reverend in front of him could have melted steel. Mattie's guts churned. She didn't dare draw his attention to herself, didn't dare so much as move.

The Reverend, however, was unfazed by Ben Warner's eyes.

"Mr. Warner, I will not have the decent women of this town who tend to the graves of their loved ones pass by the grave of a godless woman." And with a change of posture he assumed the voice he usually used for his sermons on Sunday and started quoting

"Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." He paused a moment as if to catch his breath, but it was to give his voice the right volume and impact.

"For he that soweth to his flesh of the flesh shall reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting."

Ben had tensed visibly.

Satisfied that he seemed to have gotten the message across, the Reverend continued "Mr. Warner, this woman belongs in Penitence Hill with all the other whores, outlaws and ungodly people."

Mattie saw the shift in Ben's eyes and jumped at him, firmly hanging on to his arm.

"Please...!" she pleaded. The Reverend, too, had seen the change in Ben and had stepped back a few paces. Now Mattie moved to stand in front of Ben and tried to block his view.

"Please..." she pleaded again not sure if she could penetrate his concentration. Finally, Ben turned towards her.

"Mary won't mind," Mattie said. And when Ben's look changed to objection she added, "She'll feel safer without them people who scorned her. The others on the Hill won't do nothing to hurt her. Outlaws are against the law, not against women. They'll enjoy her company. She'll be fine."

Seldom had Ben heard Mattie speak more than a few words. And it was very rare for her to voice an opinion. Her simple words gave him an insight into her mind... into her very heart, and for a moment a wave of tenderness swept through him. He looked at her; her eyes pleaded with him. _She was quite a woman._

He took Mattie's arm and ushered her out of church.

The Reverend shook his head. _Richest rancher or not, the man had quite an unhealthy attachment to whores. Unbelievable. And disrespectful to all the decent women who were living in town tending to their lawful husbands and raising god-fearing children._

He watched as Ben and Mattie made their way towards the office of the undertaker, no doubt planning to buy a coffin for that... woman. He shook his head. _It was incredible what rich men spent their money on._

 

~~~

 

Mary's funeral was modest. Since the Reverend had refused to bury her there was no sermon and no prayers. Apart from Ben, Mattie and the saloon girls, there were only two more people at the graveside, the barkeep and the doctor. Both the sheriff and his deputy had failed to receive permission from their wives to attend.

 

The girls from the saloon were all crying their eyes out – except for Mattie. She was too shocked to be able to cry. She had believed what Mary had told her: that it was possible to meet a man who would help a girl to break free from the cat-house, that her friend Mary had been one of the lucky ones who had met such a man, and Mattie simply couldn't understand why Mary had been lying to her.

Ben watched Mattie's rigid body and her frozen expression. When she turned away from Mary's grave she was stopped by his fingers curling around her wrist. They shared a look. She saw pity in Ben's eyes, and something else she had not expected. _Was it guilt? Was it that in some elusive corner of his heart he had actually loved Mary but never admitted to it?_

They tried to outstare each other in a vague attempt to avoid acknowledging their own feelings. It took them long to realize that they were equally strong and neither could stare the other down. When they finally looked around themselves they saw that they were the only ones left in the desolate graveyard.

Silently, Ben offered Mattie his arm to walk her back, and silently she took it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
